


Fading into Nothingness

by missblueeyes63



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Older Brothers, Team as Family, Whump, Whump Clay, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 21:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17857154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missblueeyes63/pseuds/missblueeyes63
Summary: Bravo team does a HAHO jump into Nepal, and ... well, things don't go as planned. Will Clay fade into nothingness?





	1. Frosty Toes Suck

**Author's Note:**

> This started out intending to be AI-N on FF, but it is taking on a life of its own and will not be AI-N now, but a separate story. Will be cross-posted on FF too under the same name and I will come up with a new concept for N for Alphabet Injuries.

_**Open Field** _

“NOOOOO!” Clay yelled as red mist splattered his face … the source coming off Sonny’s body as the Texan staggered back, fell, and convulsed on the ground. Out of ammo, Clay couldn’t defend either of them from the onslaught as his body was riddled with projectiles and he dropped to his knees next to Sonny knowing the end had arrived.

Laughter filled the air as four men and one boy high-fived each other … victory theirs against two of most badass SEALs ever trained.

“You just gonna lie there?”

Sonny peered up and lifted his gun, noting Clay covered in red. He aimed and fired hitting his mark.

“Hey! Not fair, not fair at all. You’re supposed be dead,” Mikey shouted at Uncle Sonny before turning his gaze to his dad who now supported blue paint oozing down his shirt.

Sonny laughed as he sat up. “All’s fair in love and paintball.”

Clay groaned as he stood, wiping the red paint from his cheek. He and Sonny went two against five after Sonny made a bet with Jason that the two of them could beat them all. Having been in the men’s room when the terms of the bet were agreed, he asked, “What was the bet for?”

Jason answered, “Beer and ice cream.”

“Beer ice cream, now that has a ring to it.” Sonny grinned as rose.

Leaning on the wall, Clay shook his head. “Not for Mikey.” He shifted his gaze to Jason’s son. “What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Any … well, not gross ones like pistachio nuts or something like that.” Mikey beamed, happy Dad brought him along to play paintball today and to be treated like one of his dad’s team. Sure beat going to the movies or being babysat by Emma.

“Let’s clean up and head back to my place. Naima will have the burgers and such ready for the grill by now.” Ray slung his paintball rifle over his shoulder and started to the area where they could shower and change.

Mikey sidled up to Sonny and dropped his voice, “You flopped around a lot when you were supposed to be dead. Did you let me win?”

Sonny snickered, enjoying hamming up his death scene, but shook his head. “Nope, I wouldn’t do that. Ya got me … you’re a sure shot … a chip off your old man’s block.” Sonny’s heart warmed as the wattage of the boy’s smile turned up and competed with the sun in brightness.

Clay slapped Sonny’s back and teased, “Don’t quit your day job, an actor you are not. Oh, and you’re buying … you roped me into this bet without my consent.”

“Now, Crimson Avenger, we’re going halves,” Sonny drawled.

* * *

_**Unknown Location** _

Awakening yet again to the damp chill, his pleasant memory fading into nothingness, Clay lay still, his eyes open but not a flicker of light filled his vision. He had no idea where he was, or how much time had passed. Cold and numb, shivers overtook him again and he pulled the thin piece of material over his bare shoulders in a futile effort to ward off the chill, but only succeeded in uncovering his freezing bare feet.

The last thing Clay recalled before waking here the first time was being the last man to walk off the back of the plane for a HAHO jump into Nepal near the Chinese border to rescue three female American missionaries who were nabbed by an extremist group who planned to sell them to the highest bidder. Oh, and his main chute not opening. His reserve opened but almost too late, and he was far from the intended landing zone.

He only knew the last two items, because if the reserve hadn’t opened, he’d be dead, and if he had been anywhere near the team, he wouldn’t be here … wherever here might be … somewhere in either China or Nepal. Of the two, China would be less preferable.

The ever-present pain in his neck and numbness of his lower extremities was nerve-wracking. He wanted to move, to explore his location … find a way out, get back to his team, wherever they may be, but he couldn’t. All he could do was lay here and float in and out of naps to escape the never-ending coldness and pain.

Clay wondered if he was a prisoner … but so far, he had not seen or heard anyone, and he had no view of his environment … it might be a prison … or a hole in the ground. The only thing he did know, whoever had him, provided him a thin pad to lie on and a blanket of sorts, but took all his gear, leaving him in only his boxers. He wished for his socks … frosty toes sucked and only increase his misery.

* * *

_**Kathmandu, Nepal** _

“WHY THE HELL NOT!” Jason bellowed.

“Because we have no lead on where Spenser is.” Eric let out an exasperated sigh. He had been sitting on Jason and the rest of Bravo for the past three days. Nanny was not part of his official job description, but with Hayes, it was necessary. No other commander had the ability to rein him in, so it was his distinct pleasure … or often displeasure … to be the one commanding the notoriously difficult and demanding Master Chief Hayes.

“Well, find a lead. He’s been out there on his own for nine fucking days.” Jason clenched and released his fists … hating the feeling of being ineffectual. This was the second mission in a row where everything spun out of his control. Sonny almost drowning … hell drowning in the Navy sub tube … and now Clay going missing during their HAHO jump.

When the kid’s chute didn’t open, they all watched him plummet towards the ground, fearing he would meet the same end as his friend Brian. They all breathed a sigh of relief when the reserve opened, but the kids was so far off course and the air currents took him further from them.

Upon landing, they called for him, but he didn’t answer. Though he would take flak for deviating from his mission, they spent the hours before daylight searching for Clay. Not finding him … they had to hunker down during the daylight, but Jason kept trying to raise the kid on the comms.

He didn’t want to leave before finding Spenser, leaving a man never sat well with him … they had to break off their search and go rescue the women. Took them two nights to locate them in China, and another three to traipse back to across the border for exfil.

Cooling his heels here while Mandy and her namby pamby nerds searched satellite footage of the area trying to locate a trace of the kid left him in a nasty mood.

“Jace, they’re doing everything they can,” Ray tried to placate Jason, though he too itched to be let loose to scour the possible landing radius. But since it included a large section of China, they were not green lighted.

Glowering at Ray, Jason ground out, “It’s not enough.”

“I know, brother … but its all we can do for now.” Ray put a hand on Jason shoulder.      

Lester grinned as he zeroed in on a section. “Hey! Hey! I think I found something.”

Sonny, Brock, Ray, Trent, and Jason all surrounded the techie in a fraction of a second. Lisa, Eric, and Mandy all had to make do with being in the outer circle trying to peer over burly men’s shoulders.

Lisa pushed near Sonny, and gave him a smile when he made room for her. Every since his near-death experience in the sub, things had leveled out between them. Neither knew where if anywhere their relationship was headed, but for now the tension between them dissipated.

Pointing to his screen, Lester said, “See this. It looks like limbs were broken off the trees. And this area … looks like drag marks in soil. I think he crashed through the trees and then someone dragged him away. You have a starting point and a direction.”

Ray clapped the man on the back. “Good work. Where is it?”

Lester shifted his eyes to Blackburn. “In China.”

“Aw crap!” Sonny punched his palm.

Jason pinned his eyes on Eric. “Get us a green light.”

Nodding, Eric said, “I’ll do my best.”

“Best isn’t good enough. Do it, or we’re going AWOL to get our boy back. International incident be damned.”

“I didn’t hear that,” Eric strode away. He would place a call to Admiral Droit … the man displayed a soft spot for Clay and if ever the kid could use a champion in his corner, it was now.

Mandy turned to Lester, “Keep searching in that area, try to find more tracks.”

“We need maps of the area,” Ray said. “We’ll be planning a rescue mission while we wait for the green light.”

Lisa began making a mental list of what they guys would need as she strode out.

Trent said, “I want to review a zoomed in view of the landing.”

“Why?” Lester asked.

“Might help me determine if there are any medical needs to prepare for.”

“Oh. I’ll put it up on the other monitor for you.” Lester tapped away as Trent sat at the computer next to Lester.

As Trent examined the broken boughs his stomach dropped. Clay would certainly have sustained injuries … how severe he couldn’t tell.

Ray, Jason, Brock, and Sonny poured over the map, discussing options and the fastest route to the initial site … their infil would depend on whether they received the go ahead.


	2. Say Again Your Last

_**Unknown Location** _

Nothing registered except ungodly pain in Clay’s nightmarish world. He screamed himself raw as unseen demons manhandled his body, turning him on his stomach, every nerve on fire. He wished for the previous numbness now … or even the cold. The fires of hell consumed him. The remembered stench of burnt flesh assaulted his nose, bringing with it nausea which caused him to gag and then hurl.

If the blindfold was removed and he could see his tormentors, he expected them to be horned creatures carrying red hot pokers … and his mind conjured up the face of Carlson. The nihilistic agent surely went to hell … which is exactly where Clay believed himself to be. Every inch of him burning … even the tips of his blond curls … he screamed one last time before overwhelming, all-consuming fiery pain engulfed him. His last thought before fading into nothingness … _wish I could’ve said goodbye to my brothers._

* * *

_**Somewhere in China** _

Near dawn, the sky just starting to lighten with the promise of a bright day, Jason took a knee and motioned for the others to stop. Admiral Droit came through for them, and their search and rescue mission was approved with expedience with only two conditions. One, they took a strap with them … Niranjan, a native of Nepal, also spoke English and all seven main dialects within the Chinese language. The second, they could only travel by night, and must conceal themselves during the day to avoid creating an international incident … or World War 3 … whatever.

Ray approached Jason who took point all night, pushing them to move at great speed as they followed the track, which no one had even endeavored to conceal. He whispered, “What do you see?”

Jason swallowed hard and pointed at the far end of the small clearing.

Ray’s eyes followed, and dread seized him. “No. Not.” His throat closed up.

Moving forward, Trent’s eyes bounced between his leaders. “A sign of the kid?” He shifted his heavier than normal med kit, filled with anything and everything he could conceivably need to treat the kid. Where Davis acquired some of the items he still didn’t know, but everything he asked for she provided.

Jason stood, as leader it fell to him to check out what he found. “Stay here, keep watch. Might be a trap.” That was the only reasoning Jason could come up with why someone would drag Spenser from his landing spot further into China. The kid had the bad luck to crash through the trees only twenty yards over the border between Nepal and China. Had he landed on the Nepal side, he might not have been taken.

Sonny joined the others along with Brock and Cerberus. “What’s up?”

“Jace, found something,” Trent said, his gaze returning to Ray whose complexion appeared somewhat paler than normal.

“What did he find? Hope it’s Nemo, I’m gettin a little tired of searching for our lost clownfish.” Sonny griped to cover his increasing worry.

The guys ignored Sonny’s comment, none taking offense because they understood the kid had gotten under the Mighty Quinn’s skin and the Texan would do anything and everything within his power for the man he claimed as a little brother.

Jason’s steps faltered the closer he came, and he stopped altogether as he stared. His eyes welled with tears. This was not the outcome he wanted. Without regard to his safety, overwhelmed he took a knee at the edge and bowed his head.

Ray stood and started running when Jason went to his knee. The rest followed, including the interpreter. They all skidded to a stop gaping at the charred remains.

“No! Hell no. That’s not him. No! No!” Sonny raged. He spun in circles, stopping to stare each time he faced the blacken bones … all flesh burned away. A strangled soft cry emitted from him. _No … no … not my little brother._

Placing a hand on Jason’s shoulder, tears dripped from Ray’s eyes. Whoever took their kid, set him on fire. “Why? Why? Dear God, why?” He couldn’t wrap his head around why they would drag him miles into China only to kill him in this manner. Ray bowed his head and said a prayer … seeking absolution for his brother’s soul.

Brock dropped to his knees just beyond the burnt grass. His eyes blurred with salty liquid as he stared at the bare feet … Clay’s burned feet … the foot that once almost kicked him out of a helo. Overwhelmed with emotions his head spun and he reached out for Cerberus … only to come up empty.

Sickened by the stench and inhumanity, Niranjan promptly lost his last meal. When he finished puking, the interpreter stood silent not grieving because the young man’s soul was immortal and his karma would decide which kind of body his soul would inhabit next.

Trent stood, his face turned to stone. Nothing in his med kit could bring the kid back from the grave. They were too late. Too fucking late to save the kid’s life. The desire to napalm the entire area grew as did the numbness encasing his heart. N _ow isn’t the time to grieve, I will do that after we get payback for Clay’s needless death._

Cerberus roamed around the acrid pile of bones. He didn’t like the smell. He moved away … needing to rid his nose of the sickening odor. He sensed Brock was sad and he should go to him … but the smell drove him away to the trees. Cerb sat and stared at his team. They needed to find his boy, and he couldn’t understand why they stopped.

He got another whiff of the nasty stench and lowered his nose to the earth, wanting a more neutral scent. He rubbed his snout in the dirt and breathed in. With the normal earthy smells came a slight hint of a familiar and loved scent. Cerb lifted his head and turned away from the others. He inhaled deep, then bounded off into the foliage.

Barking broke Brock’s concentration on Clay’s foot. He peered in the direction of the bark. He rose just as Cerb appeared and trotted towards him with a shoe hanging from his mouth.

Cerb dropped Clay’s boot at Brock’s feet. “Bark, bark, woof, yap, woof, bark.” F _ound my boy’s shoe. This way, come on. I got his scent. We gotta move._ Cerb started back towards where he located one shoe.

Brock crouched and picked up the boot with red on the sole. He would know Clay’s shoe anywhere. His eyes welled again. “They stripped him before they burnt him … why?” He turned to Jason. “Why, dammit why?”

Sonny’s anger burst forth. “I’m going to flay them alive when we find whoever did this. No mercy. Every fucking one of them will die as painfully as I can make happen.”

Gathering himself, Jason rose. He sucked in a breath to steady himself as he pressed his comms. “Havoc, Bravo One.”

“Good copy, One,” Blackburn responded.

“Fallen Eagle.”

* * *

_**TOC in Nepal** _

Without ISR overhead, those in the operations center were blind to what was happening on the ground. “Say again your last.”

Lisa shared a worried glance with Mandy.

“Fallen Eagle. Bravo Six found …” Jason’s voice cracked with emotions he couldn’t keep out, “he’s gone. Whoever took him … set him on fire.”

Eric gasped but controlled himself. “Do you have positive ID?”

Lisa blew out a ragged breath then pursed her lips together as she fought the prickle of tears. She would not cry … not here … not now … but later when she was alone.

Mandy’s face landed in her palms to hide tears she didn’t want to shed. Her heart cracked.

They all listened when Jason said, “Burned beyond recognition, but the body is the same size, and Cerberus found his boot nearby.”

Eric turned his back to the others and clenched a fist as he fought for control. It would be callous, and a job none of them wanted to do, but it must be done. “Take photos, open his mouth and take pictures of his teeth … we can compare it to his dental records for proof.” He drew in a breath.

The emotionless, “Copy, Bravo One out,” set a pall over the room.

Turning back to the others, Eric’s gaze landed on Davis. “I need you to get Spenser’s dental records.”

“Copy.” Lisa swiped at her eyes before attacking the keys on her laptop, sending off the request.


	3. They're All Insane

_**Somewhere** **in China** _

The men of Bravo gathered around the body, eyes now dry, faces set in grim lines. They all heard Blackburn's directive … each internalizing the pain and digging deep to remain stoic as they grappled with the idea of prying open Clay's blacken jaw to take photos.

Niranjan offered, "I will do this for you. It is only a body now … his soul will be reborn."

"BACK OFF!" Sonny roared.

"Sonny—" Ray started.

"NO! Don't Sonny me. This is CLAY! The kid deserves more respect." Tears flooded Sonny's eyes again. He was losing it. He crouched. "I'll do it."

Jason pulled out his phone squatting on the other side of Clay. His voice came out soft, "Gentle."

Cerberus barked, he yapped, he whined, but he couldn't get his boys to listen. Fed up, he ran full bore and jumped on the bones. He growled at Sonny.

"BROCK, GET YOUR DAMNED DOG OFF CLAY!" Sonny bellowed.

"CERB, OFF!" Brock commanded, utterly surprised at how Cerb desecrated the remains of the man his dog loved.

Trent gaped as Cerb's paws disturbed the bones, but it was then his mind kicked in. He dropped to the ground and pulled the left arm and up it came separating from the rest of the body.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Ray tried to tug Trent away believing their medic had gone completely mad just like their dog, especially when Trent started laughing.

Niranjan took several paces back as the scene devolved into a melee.  _They're all insane._  The leader and second in command pulled on the laughing medic as the dog handler and crazy Texan tried to grab the canine, scattering bones in every direction.

Finally, able to get words out, still gripping the arm, Trent waved it in the air like a prize. "It's not him! It isn't Clay! This proves it isn't him."

Everyone halted, eyes boring into Trent.

Trent pointed to the humerus. "Not broken. Can't be Clay."

Sonny grabbed the limb as images of Gonzales hitting Clay's arm with a bat flooded in along with the recollection of Clay's ungodly scream as his arm busted. He laughed with a cry. "Not our boy … not the Hero of Hércules."

Jason sagged with relief.  _He's not dead._  But his next thought brought back all his anxiety.  _But where the hell is he then_?

* * *

_**Unknown Location** _

A moan escaped, followed by another as Clay began to claw his way up from nothingness. Lying on his stomach, his head turned to the side, he blinked and his lashes fluttered against something soft which prevented him from opening his eyes. _Blindfolded. Still._

The hands were back … but different. Gentle touches and he heard sounds … a language he didn't comprehend, but the timbre was unmistakable. Whoever was speaking … no singing … perhaps chanting … did so in a dulcet tone … a woman's voice.

Warm water dribbled on his back … no longer freezing or burning he felt better … relatively … because quite frankly, he fucking hurt all over, but the two worst areas were his aching neck and throbbing leg.

He started to move his hand, wanting to remove the blindfold, but someone captured his wrist and pinned it down as a male voice spoke words he didn't understand … but he got the gist … they wouldn't let him move.

When he stopped trying, the grip holding him lessened. A vessel of some sort touched his lips, and his tongue darted out tasting a sweet liquid. Parched, he opened, and a small amount was poured in and he swallowed. The aftertaste was bitter, but he wanted more. Whoever … the man or the woman … fed him little sips until the male spoke something again and no more liquid was forthcoming.

His mind began to float, and the all-encompassing pain didn't feel as intense. Clay once again faded into nothingness.

* * *

_**Somewhere in China** _

When his men settled, Jason keyed his comms again, "Havoc, Bravo One … be advised, dental records not needed. The body isn't Bravo Six. I repeat not Bravo Six."

Stunned, Eric collapsed into a chair. "How …" he cleared his throat of the emotional lump, "how do you know?"

"No sign of a healed fracture on the left humerus," Trent conveyed. "Can't be our boy."

Eric couldn't stop the stupid, happy grin from covering his face, and he wasn't the only one. Davis wiped tears as she laughed, and Ellis' eyes gleamed as she lifted her head wearing a smile. The whole mood in TOC changed in an instant. "Copy. What is your plan? Do you have a trail?"

Jason grinned as Sonny gave Cerberus a treat and petted him, continually telling the dog he was a good boy. "Trail ends here, but we believe Cerberus will be able to track him. He found his shoe … perhaps he can find his scent. The fire that killed this person, is at least several days old."

Flicking his eyes to Ray, who along with their strap and Trent piled rocks on the body since they had nothing with which to dig a grave, Jason added, "Sun's up now. Do we have permission to proceed in daylight?"

The rollercoaster of emotions jerked to a halt and Eric calmed. "Negative. The trail may be old … but the conditions for this mission must be followed. Hunker down for the day and set out again after dark."

Though Jason wanted to go now, he realized his men were wasted. Ten days of little or no sleep, followed by a full night of almost flat out running, only to find what they initially believed to be Clay … that was a lot. Not that they weren't trained to handle themselves under pressure … they were, but Jason had no idea what or who they might encounter, and he wasn't willing to risk his fatigued men. If Clay survived this long, a few more hours probably wouldn't make a difference.

"Copy. Bravo One out." Jason turned to the guys. "Finish with that, then we camouflage and rack out in shifts. I want everyone rested so we can double-time it tonight."

Sonny started to open his mouth, but Brock's words and hand on his shoulder stopped him from complaining.

"Cerberus needs to rest. He'll find Clay's scent no matter how slight and lead us to him." Brock squatted and scratched behind Cerberus' ear. "Isn't that right, boy."

Cerb cocked his head, his brown eyes meeting his handler's and leaned into the loving touch. He let out a soft, "Ruff."  _Yep. I'll find my boy. And yeah, I'm tired … dog tired. A little nap would be nice._  He trotted off to the tree line, and lay down waiting for his team to finished covering up the bones of another human … not his boy.

Jason followed Cerb, stopping to pat the dog's head, wishing one of them spoke dog because he was certain Cerb tried to tell them the charred body wasn't Clay. A weird thought made him chuckle. "Bet Clay could learn to speak dog."

"Woof," Cerb agreed. Though he loved Brock, his human was a bit dense when it came to listening to or understanding him. But Clay on the other hand … well, he did listen and understand … well, more than the others. He lay his weary head on his paws and closed his eyes.  _Sleep now, run later, find my boy … bring him home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corralled the evil muse and made her post this chapter quick. Hope you are enjoying.


	4. Ye of Little Faith

_**TOC in Nepal** _

Mandy strode in with purpose. The thing that bothered her for the past ten days … what niggled the back of her mind was … why would anyone drag Clay away? She now had an answer, well, a partial one, but one no one would like … least of all the men of Bravo. She thanked her lucky stars she didn't have to deliver this in person to Jason.

She halted and put a fresh mug of coffee in front of Blackburn, who appeared weary after days of wrangling Jason and the premature report of Spenser's death. "You're gonna need this … drink up."

Eric opened his eyes and peered at the steaming cup. He wanted, no needed sleep and a shower, but neither would be happening until his men were safely back in Nepal. "Why?" He leaned forward and put his hand around the cup.

"I spoke with the missionaries they boys rescued. Since they ended up in China, I wanted to find out if they overheard anything which might be useful in locating Clay." Mandy took a seat, but nervous energy made her stand again and turn in a circle.

Lisa cracked open an eye. She refused to rack out in the cots they were provided in another room, wanting to be close if her boys needed something. She lifted her head from her crossed arms and rubbed tired eyes, as she focused on Mandy. "Find anything?"

Mandy turned to Lisa. "Yeah, sort of."

"What's that mean?" Eric sipped the coffee.

"Nothing confirmed, but one of the women, Oliva Peters, speaks a little Tibetan and she heard one of the captors talking on the radio with someone else. She recalls them saying something about finding a bigger prize. Something which would be highly sought after."

"Clay?" Lisa interjected.

"I think so. But the other thing Oliva relayed was their prize is in bad shape and would be worthless to them if not taken care of soon." Mandy chewed on her lower lip.

"Is that it?" Eric asked. "Not much to go on."

"Yeah, all I have for now, but analysts are listening for chatter. If this same group took Clay, you can bet they are going to try to sell him. Sounds like they want him alive too. So they might seek medical care for him somewhere. Not many options in the sparsely populated area, but there is one monastery where they might find help." Mandy was certain whatever care would be available would not meet with Trent's standards.

"Where? Show me on a map?" Eric stood and moved to the large screen. His gut twisted with the news, and Jason wouldn't like it one bit, but it was the only thing they had to go on.

Mandy moved to Lisa's laptop. "Do you mind?"

"No, go ahead." Lisa rose and stretched her aching back then joined Blackburn near the screen.

After bringing up the map, Mandy strolled over and pointed to an area. "This Tibetan monastery is about twenty miles from where the guys are located now."

"They could cover the distance in one night," Lisa said, her hope increasing a smidgeon.

Eric nodded and rubbed the back of his neck as a tension headache built. Sending the team into a populated area would be risky, but if it meant finding and rescuing Clay, he would allow them to go, but he must lay down the law to Jason that they couldn't start World War Three. "I want the techs to search the satellite footage between Hayes and this monastery. They need all the intel on the area they can get, and if you find any signs of recent travel. Also want info on what they can expect at the monastery, number of inhabitants, and such. I'll contact Jason right before dark to relay the details."

"Why not now?" Mandy asked, but realized why as soon as the question escaped.

Eric arched a brow. "Hayes would go now. I'm not risking them … bad enough one is missing, not gonna put five more in jeopardy."

"Six," Lisa mumbled.

"What?" Eric peered at Davis.

"Six if you count Cerberus."

Eric grinned. "I stand corrected … six."

* * *

**_Unknown Location_ **

Pain eked back in as consciousness returned. His head felt like a balloon … inflated and floaty and he didn't bother trying to open his eyes. His lashes felt like two-ton ropes tied to his lids, weighing them down. His leg throbbed nonstop … every heartbeat brought agony.

A fiery prick like a thin needle pierced his back, and he winced and bit his lower lip.  _Fuck no, not again!_  Clay managed not to cry out as one-by-one dozens of fire needles penetrated his skin from his shoulders to his hips, though he tried to move and found himself immobilized at the wrists and ankles.

Next came the warmed liquid applied to his back and massaged in … which actually provided some relief, but he knew what was coming next and it fucking hurt … something was placed on his back, and it felt like his very life was being sucked out through his skin … burning him at the same time. By the third time he couldn't hold back, and let loose a scream. He wished to fade into nothingness, but not this time … he endured the placement of sixteen blazing-hot items on his back.

His throat raw from screams, he panted. A vessel was placed against his lips … the same sweet liquid with a bitter aftertaste. He eagerly drank, understanding by now it brought nothingness … a place of refuge from the constant pain. His mind began to drift as they began removing whatever the hell they put on his back. Each one making a popping sound as if suction was broken.

No longer above begging, Clay's last lucid thought …  _Please, brothers, come get me, don't leave me in this hell_.

* * *

_**Somewhere in China** _

Brock had racked out first and got six hours of uneasy sleep. For the last three, he sat under the camouflage net, taking his turn along with Sonny as overwatch. In all that time, his mind wouldn't turn off. He shifted his gaze to Cerb. He wished like hell they spoke the same language. He concluded his dog must be smarter than him because Cerb understood his commands, so he understood two languages.

He needed to start paying closer attention and learn what Cerb's signals and sounds might mean. If he had, then the earlier debacle with the bones might not of happened. "Cerb, do you know where Clay is?"

Sonny chuckled, "Talking to the dog … surest sign you need more rest if you think he's gonna answer you."

Cerb squinted at Sonny.  _I'll show you, ye of little faith!_  He stood and trotted away.

Not worried Cerberus would go far, likely needed to take a dump, Brock joked, "Look, you offended him."

"He going off to sulk?" Sonny quipped back.

Brock took a swig of water and leaned his head on the tree trunk. "Don't know, maybe. I wish like hell he could speak our language. My comprehension of Dog sucks compared to his of English."

Sonny sighed and dug out a power bar to munch on. "Sorry. Without Cerb we wouldn't have found Clay in Argentina. Think he's our best bet for finding him here too."

Cerb loped over to Sonny and dropped something in his lap along with dirt and leaves, covering his energy bar. "Cerb … dammit, you ruined my meal." He brushed away the mess, but his eyes landed on a bit of fabric. "Fuck!"

Brock, who had been chuckling at his dog's antics, thinking it was just rewards for Sonny's earlier comment, stopped. "What?"

Sonny grabbed the item off the ground. "His identifier patch." Sonny stared at the 6B9 patch. He kicked a boot to nudge Jason. "Boss. Wake up. The hair missile found the kid's patch."

Jason roused, blinked, ran a hand through his hair and sat up. "What?"

"This!" Sonny tossed the dirty patch in Jason's lap.

Brushing off the dirt, Jason's gut seized. Not because of the second tangible proof the kid had been here at one point, but because of the dried blood on it. The distinctive rust color isn't something he would miss. "When? Where?"

"Just now, and somewhere over there." Sonny waved in the direction Cerb had come.

Jason peered at the dog. "Find Clay."

"Woof."  _Follow me._  Cerb trotted back to where he found the scent of his boy.

Standing, Jason started to follow.

"Jace, we have orders. No movement in daylight," Ray reminded his friend as he rubbed the crusties from the corner of his eyes. Three hours of sleep would be all he would get because for damn sure he was gonna have to sit on Jason to make him comply.

"No going far, just want to check out what Cerb found. You all stay here." Jason jogged after Cerb. He found the dog about ten yards away waiting for him. He had dug in the dirt. Jason took a knee and brushed away leaves. Pulling out fabric he discovered a pair of camo pants — Clay's. The right leg had been ripped off mid-thigh, and the amount of blood on both pieces indicated a severe wound.

He dug more but didn't find any other articles of clothing or any gear. He rose and went back to the others, taking the pants with him. "He's hurt … bad. But this makes no sense to me. Why leave his pants, one shoe, and his patch?"

Having woken too, Trent took one glance at the blood-soaked pant leg and was glad he brought extra packed red blood cells in an iceless thermal container which would keep them viable for seventy-two hours.  _The kid is certainly gonna need some._  He refused to believe the kid was dead … again … he would stay positive and do all in his power to keep him alive once they located him.

The guys all shook their head, as perplexed as Jason, but Ray offered, "What if whoever took him isn't hostile. What if they are trying to take him somewhere for help … perhaps leaving a trail, figuring someone would be looking for him."

"What makes you think anyone in China would be friendly to one of us?" Sonny questioned.

"Technically this is the Tibet Autonomous Region of China, and although a province-level entity of the PRC, the majority of the population identify as Tibetan not Chinese. And their primary religion is Buddhism," Ray said.

Jason keyed his comms. "Havoc, Bravo One. How copy?"

"Good copy," Lisa answered.

"Found some clothing belonging to Bravo Six … he is injured for sure by the amount of blood. When the sun goes down, we plan on following wherever the hair missile takes us."

"Negative," Eric said, and before Jason could raise a stink, he added, "We have a probable lead on his location."

All the men perked up, but Jason noted something off in Blackburn's voice. "Explain."

"Possible he was taken by the same group you rescued the three women from. One overheard a conversation in Tibetan. She is not fluent but understood enough that they were concerned about a high-value prize," he sucked in a breath and blew it out, "which would be worthless unless taken care of soon.

"We have coordinates for you to check … a monastery twenty miles from your current position. However, you are not, and I repeat NOT allowed to move out until nightfall. I will provide you the coordinates now if you give me your word." Eric raked a hand through his hair. He would trust Hayes' word … he had no choice.

"Roger." Jason tried to circumvent giving his word.

"Bravo One, I need to hear you say you give your word," Eric insisted.

"I give my word. Now where the hell is this monastery?" Jason glanced at Ray who had already pulled out his map, ready to plot their course.

Lisa provided the coordinates, then relayed the layout of the small town she had viewed using google maps. "Godspeed and fair winds tonight."

After acknowledging he received the details, Jason said, "Bravo One out." He faced his team and said, "Eat and hydrate, we are going for a full-tilt run in about two hours. We won't be stopping until we reach the damn monastery."

"Copy," four men responded as one member said, "Woof."

"I think Cerb just said copy." Brock chuckled as he pulled out the collapsible bowls to feed and water Cerberus.

Cerb's tail wagged.  _Absolutely! Maybe you're teachable after all._


	5. Listen to Me

_**Somewhere in China** _

Cerb pulled on his lead. "Bark, woof."  _You're going the wrong direction! This way. Listen to me._

Brock yanked on Cerb's leash, pulling in the direction they needed to go to get to the monastery.

"What's up with Cerb," Trent asked, somewhat out of breath as they passed mile fifteen of twenty, they needed to travel. They made excellent time, considering the terrain and the altitude, though each wished they were already there.

"Wants to go down that other fork, I think," Brock replied.

Jason, in the lead, overheard and stopped so abruptly, Ray almost plowed into him. "Cerb wants to go another direction?"

"Yeah, been tugging on his lead ever since we passed the fork." Brock came to a halt.

"I say we listen to the hair missile. This intel came from Mandy, and she hasn't been hitting a thousand lately. Cerb on the other hand … trust his nose any day. Specially when it comes to the kid." Sonny took several draws from his oxygen as he stopped with the others. Trent insisted they come well supplied. They were not acclimatized to the high altitude, and the oxygen was a preventative measure to help alleviate the symptoms of altitude sickness. None of them needed to be battling headaches, vomiting, dizziness, or fatigue … well, the last one was a given regardless of the altitude.

Jason squatted in front of Cerb considering which direction to go. Until now, Cerberus was happy with their trajectory. He lifted his NODS and peered at Ray. "What's down the other path?"

Lifting his own NODS, Ray pulled out the map and a penlight. He crouched and hunched over to conceal it as best as possible as he studied the map. "Nothing, but again, the monastery isn't listed either on this." Ray clicked off his light, stood and folded the map. "If we're voting, I say we follow Cerb. Found the kid in Argentina and in the building in Dongola."

"My money's on Cerberus too," Trent offered.

Making a decision to listen to what Cerb was trying to tell them, Jason rose and pressed his comms. "Havoc, Bravo One, how copy?"

* * *

_**TOC in Nepal** _

"Good copy," Lisa responded then yawned. Glancing over at the lieutenant commander who was snoring, she decided to wait to wake him depending on what Jason reported since it was the first time Blackburn nodded off in over twenty-four hours. The man was dead on his feet.

"Hair missile has a scent … not going to the monastery, following his direction. Will communicate coordinates every fifteen mikes."

"Roger." Lisa glanced at Mandy who frowned and started to reach out a hand to wake Blackburn. "I wouldn't wake him. Jason's call is the right one ninety-nine times out of a hundred."

"They need to go to the monastery," Mandy peered at Lisa.

"Why?"

"That's the mission."

"No, the mission is to find Clay. I trust Cerb. The monastery is one possibility … if the intel is correct and the group took Clay. We don't have any confirmation. The boys won't let Spenser down." Lisa sat back and crossed her arms. What she wanted to include, but thought better of stating it out loud, _"The boys won't come back until they find their brother. They will bring him home … dead or alive."_

Mandy sagged in her chair, unhappy. Not at the guys, but with herself. Lately, nothing was going right … and the guys paid the price. She wondered if she was losing her edge, because quite frankly, Bravo was right, her intel was crap in the last several missions.

She was no Carlson … she cared about the operators … maybe too much. Perhaps she was letting her emotions cloud her judgment too often. Maybe she needed to pull back, or possibly ask for reassignment before one of her ops got one or more of Bravo killed. If that one ended up being Spenser, she had no doubt Jason would refuse to ever work with her again … ever trust her.

Perhaps she just needed a vacation, time away from all the negative, rejuvenate, and put a little perspective back in her life. Mandy stood and asked, "Can I bring you more coffee?"

Lisa relaxed, Mandy wouldn't be waking Eric. "Please. And thanks for listening to me, Blackburn needs some sleep."

Mandy sighed accepting the truth. "Jason will do what Jason will do anyway. Waking Eric wouldn't do anything to change the outcome. For what it's worth, I hope Cerb is right and they find Clay soon."

* * *

**_Unknown Location_ **

Padma stirred her mixture of herbs and water in a bowl over the small fire as she softly chanted a prayer her mother taught her as a child. Her gaze routinely moved between three men. An armed stranger who sat at the entrance of her family's black yak hair tent. The six others who came with him stayed in other tents. She wished they all would leave without harming anyone else.

Her eyes moved to the second man — another stranger who she and her older brother Zopa tried to help. On their way back from selling several sheep, they found him hanging from a tree and cut him down. His leg was bleeding so badly they needed to cauterize the wound. Recalling his tortured scream when he unexpectedly woke while Zopa did so, still made her shudder.

Zopa made a litter out of the material in the trees, and they started to drag him to their home. They stopped the first night and made a small fire. They stripped the unconscious man to wash the many wounds that night, hoping to prevent infection.

While the man lay on the pad Zopa put down for him, he woke as she put a blanket over his shivering body. That is when she realized something was wrong with his eyes. The stranger didn't react at all to them … as if he was unseeing. He didn't remain conscious long, and she decided not to redress him because the myriad of cuts would need to be tended regularly, so she covered him in her warmest woolen blanket.

In the morning, she checked his eyes, lifting the lids as he slept. The whites of his eyes were filled with blood, so she soaked her softest cloth in an herbal solution and wrapped it around his head to protect them until she could talk to a doctor. As they traveled the second day, he became fevered, and that slowed them down. Zopa made another fire for them, and she made tea with medicinal herbs and tried to help the wounded man drink. He only took a little.

That night, the armed men came into their camp. They took one look at the blond hair and began talking in a language she didn't understand. One of them found the bundle of his clothes and other items and that is when she became scared. They turned into animals … hitting and kicking a defenseless man, causing more damage.

Padma brushed a tear away as memories of her older brother came forward, bringing grief. Zopa tried to protect him, he threw his body on top of the blond, but that didn't stop them. They beat Zopa severely for daring to interfere. Then one of them put a stop to it after he contacted someone else by radio.

They stayed for several days in the same location, waiting for some others to join them, and that is when she determined what they planned to do with the wounded man. She was certain someone would be looking for him, so she asked Zopa to bury some of his clothing to leave a trail. Padma wished she never asked.

When the others found out, they stripped Zopa and set him on fire. She screamed and screamed for them not to … but they were brutal, uncaring men. Before the fire which consumed her brother died out, they were on the move. When they came to the fork, one way to the monastery and one to her family's encampment, five men went with her and their prize, and two went to the monastery to bring back a doctor because they wanted the blond alive … he would bring more money alive.

Padma's gaze flicked to the old man, the third man in her tent. Anger grew inside. Metok dared call himself a doctor. She recalled him from her youth. He came once to treat her grandmother. Her father and the others ran him off after he did more harm than good. Where he had been for the last twenty years, she didn't know, but his non-existent skills only diminished from what she could tell.

Metok caused the young blond so much pain doing treatments incorrectly. The pseudo-doctor now slept and stayed mostly groggy because she finally became brave enough to drug him with the same sleeping aid she concocted for the injured man. The blond wouldn't survive much longer if Metok was allowed to continue his course of treatment. And if the prize died, the armed strangers threatened to kill everyone.

Pouring the mixture of steeped mugwort and other herbs into a small vessel, Padma allowed it to cool a little before she moved to the young man. He was restless again. In extreme pain she was certain … who wouldn't be with what Metok subjected him to? She raised his head a little and put the cup to his lips as she whispered, "Drink a bit. This will help you sleep. I wish I could do more to help you."

Clay stirred and moaned as his agony ratcheted up. He wanted to roll off his back which hurt like hell, but he didn't possess the strength to move. The lilting voice spoke to him again, and he wished he understood. His head was lifted, and the sweet and bitter liquid filled his mouth. Greedily he drank whatever was offered and wanted more when she stopped.

When his head was lowered to something soft, he tried to open his eyes, but the blindfold prevented him. He moved his hand to try to remove it, but his wrist was captured and pressed down again. Weak as a kitten he couldn't resist what was in truth a light touch.

Padma clasped his hand and lowered it to the padding. He tried to take off the cloth every time he woke. "No, don't. Listen to me. You are injured, better for it to stay in place for now."

Clay listened to the voice wondering what she said until things became floaty again. As he drifted off into nothingness again, he was thankful this waking didn't come with someone setting him on fire.

* * *

_**Somewhere in China** _

Niranjan dropped to the ground, exhausted when Hayes motioned for them to halt. Though he was used to the altitude having lived in Nepal all his life, he was  _not_ used to running all night long following a dog. These men were crazy to be listening to an animal. They would end up in trouble for sure.

As sunrise approached, the sky lightening in the pre-dawn, Jason halted at the edge of the tree line, breathing hard. The altitude was wearing on all of them, even Cerb. He sucked on his oxygen taking several draws to dissipate the lightheadedness.

Jason eyed the vast open Tibetan plateau and what appeared to be a cluster of large tents or yurts about a mile or so from them before turning to Ray. "No cover once we leave the woods."

Ray nodded. "We have about fifteen minutes until full daylight. Do you want to go in now or wait and recon today?"

Though Jason wanted to go now, the safety of his men dictated his decision. "We stay here and observe. I don't want us going in blind."

"Good decision, brother. We wouldn't want to be the cause of World War Three." Ray turned and headed further back into the trees to settle in for the day.

Raking a hand through his hair, Jason continued to stare at the encampment.  _Clay, if you are there … listen to me … we are coming for you … hold on, brother._


	6. Bad Medicine

_**Unknown Location** _

Clay woke in abject misery again as several rough hands turned him over on to his stomach. "No, stop," he croaked out, pleading, something he never believed possible. His advanced SERE evolution prepared him for psychological games and some physical pain and deprivation, but training never subjected him to outright fire-breathing torture.

He almost wished to be back in Ecuador chained to the wall with the psychopath Carlson coming at him with the red-hot poker … or even on the rooftop in Mexico, hanging from a hook like the days catch. Unable to resist, they positioned him face down and the cloth stuck to his back was ripped off. He clenched his jaw, moaning but attempting not to scream outright.

Gruff male voices spoke in a language he didn't comprehend, but the tone indicated anger. The soft feminine voice became shrill, rising for the first time … but ended with a thump followed by a sob and more angry words from the males.  _What the hell?_

Clay reached for the blindfold once again. This time he managed to grasp it and tugged it from his face. His eyelids were crusted shut, and he rubbed one, succeeding in removing enough crusties to open one eye partially. His vision blurred and distorted in the dimness, and he only made out blob-like shapes. He counted three hovering over a fourth which was on the ground.

A standing one kicked at the prone one as he barked something. The crying told Clay the men were hurting the woman. Something which didn't sit well with him. Gathering what little strength he possessed, Clay tried to rise to his knees as he yelled, "Leave her alone."

He went down in a heap as his arms gave out … Clay couldn't do anything to save her … much less himself. But he did succeed in turning their attention back to him. Rapid-fire dialog flew between his captors and Clay wished he comprehended.

Padma scurried back and out of the way, curling into a small ball trying to become invisible when Metok and two of the strangers started arguing. She wiped her hand across her face, and it came away bloody from her split lip. She wished she hadn't fallen asleep and brewed noon tea for Metok. He was now fully awake and preparing to inflict more so-called treatment on the young man because the strangers wanted him to be ready to travel tonight.

Tears welled as she rubbed her bruised ribs. She would not be able to save him or the rest her family now. The treatment Metok was describing to the others would surely kill the blond which meant the strangers would kill everyone … like they did Zopa.

Metok turned his gaze on the useless girl. "Go to the woods and gather me more herbs." He rattled off what he required.

Padma grabbed her basket, gave one last glance to the poor soul who would endure Metok's doctoring and slipped out of the tent, followed by one of the armed strangers. She would not be able to slip away and try to bring help to her family.

* * *

_**Somewhere in China** _

Taking second watch with Sonny as the others racked out, Ray scanned the encampment below. "Doesn't seem right. Not much movement. No one is tending the sheep and yaks. Only a couple of men moving between tents."

Chewing on a blade of grass, Sonny shook his head. "Don't know much about the nomadic lifestyle. Maybe today is a day off … ya know like a religious day."

"Perhaps, but if that were the case, kids would at least be outside. Ho … wait, movement. I think a woman and a man exiting a tent." Ray focused on the pair.

Sonny grabbed his weapon to use the scope for a better look. "That's an AK he's carrying. When did sheepherders start arming themselves like that?"

Ray zeroed in on the woman. "Her lip is bleeding. As I said, something feels off. They're heading this way. Go wake the others."

Rising to a crouch, Sonny moved off into the woods to where Jason, Brock, Trent, Cerb and their strap slept. He shook Jason's shoulder. "Bossman, company's coming this way." Sonny then shook the others awake one by one before they all headed back to their observation location.

Rubbing his eyes, thankful for a couple of hours of sleep, Jason asked, "What we got?"

"Male and female. He's armed. She appears frightened by her body movements, and she's got a bloodied lip. Something is off."

Assessing the situation, with no cover they couldn't approach the tents unseen during the day. It was a little after noon which meant they needed to wait about five or six more hours before sunset. "Spread out and remain concealed. Niranjan you're with me, we're gonna follow as close as possible. I want you to listen for anything they say … we need intel."

Niranjan cringed but nodded.  _This isn't what I signed up for … nope, nada … no way._  He was a linguist and worked for the Kathmandu Metropolitan Council. The pretty Miss Davis with beautiful brown eyes who his boss sent to talk to him about an opportunity to make a difference never indicated he would be playing soldier … erm, correction per Petty Officer Davis … these men are sailors. Pftt … how can they be sailors on land? Americans confounded him.

Bravo spread out, took cover and waited for the two from the encampment below to enter the woods. Jason crept forward but stayed in the shadows as the woman knelt and began to pull out weeds and roots. It became clear the man acted as a guard of sorts. Though whether it was for her safety or to prevent her from escaping Jason didn't know.

He glanced at Niranjan when the woman began to mumble softly. His interpreter, although not happy with his situation was diligent and appeared to be concentrating on what she was saying. Jason hoped it would give him a clue if Clay was there … he hated to think he made the wrong decision and if they should've gone to the monastery instead of following Cerb's lead.

Becoming brave, Padma glanced up at the armed man. "Do not let Metok treat him again. He will die. Allow me to care for him. He will live. You want him alive … and I want my family to live."

"Shut up and gather what you need, woman."

Padma gathered the items Metok requested … knowing they were ineffective at best and dangerous at worst. Many people experienced terrible reactions to some of them and if combined like Metok wanted to do … they could be lethal.

Niranjan was not used to crouching so long, and his muscles began to cramp. He adjusted slightly but his foot shifted, and a twig snapped. In the quiet woods, the sound carried.

Padma twisted her head upon hearing a noise. Her eyes widened with fear as her keen eyesight caught the hidden figure in the foliage. She stared at the blue eyes, and when an index finger came up to his lips in the universal sign for quiet, Padma's heart raced. He must be friends of the blonde instead of the other strangers, or he wouldn't be hiding.

Jason pressed his finger to his lips hoping like hell she didn't scream. How she spotted his position, he might never figure out. But she did. And luckily, she remained silent.

Giving a slight nod, Padma slipped her hand into her clothing, and she carefully palmed the small piece of material with an image which was similar to the markings on the inside of the blonde's arm … something akin to a dog's face with a three-pronged fork coming out of its head.

She glanced behind to her guard and found him taking a piss. Taking the opportunity, she pulled out the little circle and turned it to the man in the bushes, hoping for a reaction.

Jason sucked in a breath upon spying the DEVGRU patch she showed him. Clay … she's seen Clay. His gut whirled with the implications, and his mind landed on the only plausible scenario. The terrorist group had Clay and likely overtook the encampment and were holding the people prisoner too. He nodded hoping she understood.

Padma rose. "I must go further for more herbs. I won't be far." Her guard only grunted, and she moved closer to the hidden man and went to her knees and pretended to dig. She put the fabric down pushing it to the man.

Jason whispered, "Ask her if this patch came from a blond man and if he is in one of the tents?"

Niranjan asked in Tibetan as his eyes kept darting to the peeing man with the rifle.

Padma smiled and nodded, scared to speak.

No translator needed for the affirmative she gave, Jason said, "Ask her which one?"

Again whispering, frightened to be found and shot, Niranjan translated the query.

Padma patted her chest and mouthed, "Mine." She startled when her guard started coming towards her. The two men before her faded into the shadows and she stood and hurried toward him, saying loudly, "I have the herbs needed to treat the wounded man. But leaving tonight might not be possible … he is hurt badly and needs rest. Please, I beg, don't hurt my family."

The vicious backhand sent her sprawling to the ground, her lip bleeding again. As she scrambled to gather the dumped herbs, her eyes filled with tears as the guard said, "None of you will be alive even if he lives. We will not leave a trace of you … just like your brother. We will burn everything to ashes."

* * *

_**Padma's Tent** _

Metok ripped the basket from Padma's hand and shoved her to the ground as he growled, "I don't require your assistance. Stay out of the way." He figured out why he had been groggy the past few days, the little witch drugged him with the same thing she concocted to make his patient sleep.

He moved to the fire and began adding herbs and other items into boiling water … intent on making her pay for her subterfuge. He poured some in a bowl to let it steep, and when it was full-strength, he would offer her the tea.

Next, he began preparing an infusion to mix in with yak butter to use on the blond's back. When these men arrived in the village near the monastery many days ago looking for a doctor, they promised him cash if he cured the man … well, kept him alive, so he came for the money. But Metok was not stupid enough to believe they would pay him now, and he only wanted to get out of this with his life intact.

Taking his medicinal butter, Metok squatted next to the semi-conscious man. He noted the yellow and rust colored crust sealing one eye shut, but the other was open partially. He didn't know what to do for the eyes, and all that was required of him was a living patient … blindness didn't figure into the equation, so had left the blindfold in place.

Clay drifted somewhere between nothingness and awareness until something touched his back. He moaned and bit his lip to prevent himself from crying out as his agony increased. The slightest pressure caused the burning to ignite … and the hands on him were rough and hard, pressing down with great force.

All his SEAL training told him to hang on and endure … his brothers would rescue him … they would never leave him behind. But the sheer pain encouraged him to give up and left him questioning if he had been abandoned and forsaken.

Metok finished applying the salve and reached for his dried mugwort. He scraped little piles in various places down the back, legs, and feet. Next, he set his needles to heating and lit a long stick. He moved the flame from pile to pile, setting them aflame, and ignored the increasing whimpers of his patient.

"This is for your health," Metok said as he picked up an acupuncture needle and embedded the red-hot metal into the center of a burning pile of mugwort, through the skin and as deeply as he could place it.

Every fiery needle caused Clay's pain to increase. He was on fire outside and inside … his moans became whimpers and whimpers became sobs he couldn't hold in as the sadistic man continued his torture. Wishing he could escape, could move, could crawl, internally he begged,  _stop … please … no more,_  but he refused to give voice to them. He steeled his resolve.  _I am a SEAL … I will endure and hold on … my brothers will come._

Tears filled Padma's eyes as she observed Metok wishing the men would come and stop him … and save her family too.

* * *

**_Somewhere in China_ **

"WHAT THE HELL ARE WE WAITING FOR?" Sonny clenched his weapon, prepared to run flat out to rescue the kid. As Niranjan translated what the woman said, his fury increased.

Jason glared at Sonny. "We will wait until dark. Is that clear, Petty Officer Quinn?"

"NO! FUCKING NO! WHEN HAVE YOU EVER LEFT A MAN?" Sonny's Texan ire came out in full force as he squared off against Hayes.

"Not leaving him," Jason barked. He pivoted and raked a hand through his hair. Turning back, he ground out, "Dammit, I want to go as much as you, but we can't."

"I DON'T GIVE A FLAMING-FUCK WHAT SOME CAKE-EATER MIGHT DO TO ME. I'M NOT LEAVING THE KID THERE ONE MINUTE LONGER," Sonny bit back.

Ray moved between the two. They all wanted to go … now, but Jason had to make the hard call, and as number two, he would back him up. "How fast can you run a mile?"

The odd question pulled Sonny's gaze to Ray, hoping for his second in command's support in defying Jason. "Why?"

"How fast?"

"Don't know, maybe five minutes if I'm motivated and so we're clear … I am motivated!"

Ray smirked, "Well, brother a bullet can travel the same distance in about two seconds. We have no idea how many hostiles are down there, and as you haul ass across an open field with no cover you are a sitting duck. This is hard, but Jace is right … we need to wait. He's not willing to sacrifice any of us."

Trent entered the fray. "As much as I want to go … Ray and Jay are right. How will it benefit Clay if we get shot to hell?"

"Math doesn't lie," Brock added. He had been ready and willing to join Sonny until Ray's lesson about speeding bullets put some sense back into his head.

Sonny blew out a breath. "THIS FUCKING SUCKS."

"I know, brother. We all feel the same. But we will be there soon," Ray said as Jason walked away from them, likely to compose himself and to contact Havoc with an update.

Trent turned his attention to the interpreter. "What exactly did she say? What types of wounds are we dealing with?"

Niranjan startled as the intense medic pinned him with his eyes. "Um … well, she spoke to the man with a gun before gathering herbs and begged him to allow her to treat someone, fearing someone named Metok would kill him.

"Then she mumbled something about bad medicine and wanting to string up a charlatan doctor by his balls before she spotted us. She didn't say what his injuries are, only gave Hayes the patch. But when she talked to the man again and he replied, I got the impression the burned body we ran across might be her brother."

Not liking what he heard one bit, because it didn't tell him a damned thing, Trent plopped down and pulled his med kit to him, taking inventory and hoping like hell he had everything Clay might require. He wished he knew more about Eastern medicine, because here in the remote Tibetan plateau, he was sure the doctor didn't have access to the latest modern medication.

Fifteen minutes later, Jason returned to his men. He had given his word to Blackburn not to travel in daylight, and he would keep it, but his primary consideration was his men's safety. He appreciated Ray helping to settle Quinn, but also understood Sonny's anger.

He sat and pulled out a water bottle. Hydration at this altitude was important … it would stave off headaches … though his tension headache wouldn't be relieved with water. No, that would only go away once they rescued the kid.

"You alright?" Ray asked as he took a knee beside Jason.

Jason only eyed Ray.

"Okay, stupid question. What did Blackburn say?" Ray sat and pulled his pack to him, rummaging for protein bars, and after handing one to Jason as he opened a second for himself.

"Usual. Don't start World War Three. Asked about evac, especially if the kid is in bad shape." Jason viciously bit the bar and chewed.

"And?" Ray's gut told him the answer.

"No go, until we are in Nepal. He will not send any aircraft into Chinese airspace. I hope like hell Spenser isn't in dire shape."

"Me too, brother. Me too." Ray uncapped a water bottle and leaned on a tree trunk, wishing they didn't have to wait. Waiting sucked. He used his time to send up a prayer for Spenser.

Over the next several hours, none of them slept, they took turns keeping watch on the encampment, noting the movements of about four armed men who went between two tents and made an assault plan. When not observing, each remained lost in his own internal thoughts.

The sun was just beginning to set when an ungodly scream wafted to them on the air. Every last man was on his feet and at the edge of the trees, eyes peeled in the direction of the tents.

Sonny shuddered. "That's Clay."

"How do you know?" Brock asked as he held tight to Cerb's leash preventing him from racing towards the sound.

"I've fucking heard it before. Same as when Gonzales impaled him on the fucking hook. Not something I'll ever forget." Sonny's eyes beseeched Jason. "We gotta go. They're killing him. We can't wait any longer."

Another scream sounded … causing everyone to tense … because for them to hear it about a mile away, the kid was screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Gear up!" Jason ordered.

The men didn't need to be told twice. Though still twilight, six brothers, and yes Cerb considered himself a brother, and one strap ran full bore towards the tents below … coming closer they split. Jason and Trent with Niranjan approached the tent they believed contained Clay. Ray, Sonny, and Brock approached the other one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a cliffy ... so close ... poor Clay. Love hearing what you think, and appreciate the time it takes to drop me a review.


	7. You Came

_**Outside Secondary Tent** _

Though the secondary target, this tent was closer than the one the woman entered and they believed contained Clay. Sonny wanted to go with Jason, but he understood Trent would be more useful to Spenser than he would be once they found the kid. Approaching the rear of the four-sided tent without incident … no one exited either tent as they ran pell-mell across the open terrain, he pulled out the infrared viewer.

Once Ray and Brock joined Sonny, they reconned the interior, noting four groups. A mass of heat signatures appeared to be huddled on one side. Two others stood, and two sat opposing them, with the last one standing near the entrance. The three smaller groups they figured to be the guards. Using his knife, Ray cut through the yak hair fabric, as did Brock making two new tent flaps as Sonny stowed the imager and regripped his gun preparing to go in.

Ray signaled Jason they were ready with a single squawk on the radio and they waited. Clay's third scream ripped his heart in two.

* * *

_**Outside Primary Tent** _

Jason and Trent cut new entrances in the back of the tent. They didn't possess two infrared devices so they would be going in blind.

Niranjan stood back, waiting for Hayes' order to join them. Though armed with a handgun for his protection, he would not be taking part in the assault and would stay outside until they needed his language skills.

Prepared to enter, a third scream rent the air but ended abruptly. The sound stabbed his heart as Jason commanded, "Go!"

* * *

**_Clay's Hell_ **

Engulfed in agony, Clay managed to endure thirteen skin-blistering, soul-sucking fiery applications before screaming, and once started, he failed to hold back the next one. The fifteenth time … his throat raw, he let loose again as the pain soared … then he hit a wall … and faded into nothingness … silenced.

* * *

_**Inside Secondary Tent** _

Upon Jason's quiet "Go," command they stepped through the slits. It only took a second for the armed men to notice them, but their reactions were slower than the SEALs, and in short order, five men lay dead. Six men sitting on the floor peered in awe with trepidation at the newcomers as four women clutched several children to them.

Using the few Tibetan phrases Niranjan taught him while they waited for nightfall, Ray calmed the occupants, reassuring them they were not there to hurt them, only to find a missing friend. Once things appear settled, Ray gave Sonny the nod indicating it was fine for him to move to the other tent to back up Jason if needed.

* * *

**_Inside Primary Tent_ **

Jason and Trent entered the primary target location wearing night vision. Each took a side to secure. Jason noted the woman on his side and the armed man standing at the portal. He took out the man as he aimed at him.

On Trent's side, he found a prone figure, a crouching one, and a standing one. The erect one moved his weapon and Trent didn't hesitate to fire. The man dropped. The crouching man scurried into a corner and covered his head.

"Target secure," Jason reported to his team. Shortly afterward, Sonny popped through the opening they made.

In the dim light, all three Bravo men zeroed in on the prone figure … no mistaking their kid.

Rushing forward, knowing Jason and Sonny would cover his back if more hostiles showed, Trent focused on Clay. Fury lit his eyes, morphing his features into something akin to an enraged grizzly bear as Trent yelled, "WHAT THE FUCK DID THEY DO TO YOU? THIS IS BARBARIC!"

Trent had never before been afraid to treat a man, but his hand shook as he reached out to touch one of the bowl things and even through his gloves, he felt the heat of the glass.

Sonny could only gap … the Texan rendered utterly speechless as he viewed his little brother lying on his stomach with fifteen glass jars stuck to his back and more needles than he could count sticking out of him from head to toes.

"Holy Mother of God!" Jason breathed out as he turned on the flashlight attached to his helmet and illuminated Spenser's body. Red, blistered, charred circles littered his entire back from shoulders to hips. He possessed a gut of steel, but viewing the glass vials suctioned to his back, partially filled with blood, and the many piles of something smoldering on his skin … made Jason want to puke. The reason for the kid's screams became all too sickening clear.

His eyes narrowed on the woman as he shouted, "Niranjan, get in here. I need answers!"

The interpreter entered, and he spotted an infuriated Hayes before his eyes landed on what could only be their teammate. "Cupping …"

"What?" Jason demanded.

Niranjan pointed to Spenser. "That's cupping. Though I've never seen it done like that …" His eyes searched and pinned on the man cowering in the corner. "Are you the doctor?" he asked in Tibetan.

Metok nodded. "I am. I'm trying to save his life."

"More like killing him," Padma said as she moved from her spot.

Jason listened as the exchange became heated between the three speaking Tibetan. Unsure of what was said, he understood body language. The female was angry at the male. The man appeared defensive, and Niranjan seemed to be trying to make sense of the words flying between the two. When the male moved to strike the female, Jason caught his arm and twisted it behind the man's back as he said, "What's going on?" to Niranjan.

"You're not gonna like it," Niranjan said.

"What I don't like, is not knowing … spit it out."

Sonny moved forward and knelt next to Clay, his hand went to the curly locks which were matted to his head, and he rested his palm. "We're here, little brother. I'm here."

Pointing at the people, Niranjan said, "That is Padma … she lives here with her family who is all in the other tent. That sadistic man is Metok, and he claims to be a doctor. Padma disagrees, and so do I. Although acupuncture and cupping are accepted forms of treating people in this part of the world … what he did is wrong … bad … torture … not medicine."

Moving to Trent realizing the medic needed to know, Naranjan relayed, "The idiot did a version of fire cupping coupled with wet cupping. But he doesn't know how to do it properly. The oily stuff on his back is yak butter, mixed with fat, dried and ground yak dung, and other herbs. Fire cupping is where they heat the glass to increase the suction. But with that salve … it lit his back on fire. Wet cupping involves a small prick which brings out a tiny amount of blood with the suction … not making slices with a knife and essentially doing a bloodletting."

Jason shuddered and clenched his fist.

Sonny rose in a flash and grabbed Metok by the throat and pinned him against one of the wooden poles holding up the tent. "I'M GONNA BURN YOU AT THE STAKE ALIVE YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE."

"Ray, need you in here if things are stable over there." Jason keyed the comms. Then he went to Sonny. "Let him go."

"NO!"

"That wasn't a request!" Jason barked.

Sonny threw the man in the corner and glared at him.

"What about all the needles, and the little piles of crap smoldering all over him?" Trent asked as he removed another glass and blood freely ran off Clay's back. He was glad the kid was unconscious because what he was doing would fucking hurt him.

"Burning mugwort is also considered standard … but not like this, not setting him on fire. And the needles … fire needle acupuncture is sometimes used, but only in special cases and only a few. Not over his whole body. This man is an impostor. No practitioner would ever consider him a doctor. Our medicine is all about compassion and wellness. The basis of the Four Tantras is to keep the three bodily humors in balance."

Padma moved forward and pointed to the blond's eyes as she spoke to Niranjan.

Ray and Brock entered as Trent removed something from Clay's back. Brock failed to grab Cerb's leash in time to stop him from lunging at a man in the corner.

Metok howled as the dog sank his teeth into his forearm and growled. In the next few moments chaos reigned as Brock tried to get Cerberus to release the man as Sonny yelled, "GOOD BOY, BITE HIM AGAIN … TEAR HIS FUCKING THROAT OUT."

Ray gaped at the melee, and when his eyes landed on Clay, he said, "Sweet Jesus."

Once Cerb was corralled, though still growling at Metok, and a cloth was wrapped around the man's bleeding arm … no one caring to tend to it …  _physician treat thyself and die_  … the pervading thought of Bravo team … Jason focused on Niranjan again. "Find out if there are any more than the seven men we popped."

After a short conversation, the interpreter reported that only these men ever came to their encampment. Satisfied his men would be safe here for the moment, Jason instructed Ray, "Take photos of all the hostiles and send them to Havoc."

Ray went to take care of that as Jason pressed his comms button. "Havoc, Bravo One, how copy?"

"Good copy."

"Jackpot. We have Bravo Six."

Eric sighed. "Status of Six?"

"Alive … bad … position secure with friendlies for now. We need to stay and assess his condition. Will advise when we can move. Med-evac is required once we cross Everest." Jason used the code for when they were back in Nepal airspace. "Bravo Two will be sending photos of seven dead hostiles for identification."

"Copy. Update in an hour unless you have detail sooner." Eric slumped in the chair and raked a hand through his hair.

Jason turned his attention to Trent. "What can we do to help?"

Overwhelmed, unsure where to start … having never encountered something like this, Trent swallowed. "Water … clean water, clean rags … boil them if you have to. I have sterile water and dressings, but I want to keep that for after I get all this crap off him. I'm going to need to keep his back covered and wet. Need to start an IV … blood products … check his eyes."

His gaze moved to Clay's legs. "Need to remove these fucking needles. And then I gotta check the other side of him … not sure what this bastard did to the leg wound which his bloody pants indicated he suffered." Turning his eyes to Jason, Trent said, "Can't give him anything for pain … not sure what all he ingested in the herb concoctions … something might not mix well and cause an adverse reaction. If he wakes, the kid's gonna be in agony."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Jason turned to Brock. "Gather what Trent needs. I'm going to help him." Shifting his eyes to Sonny, needing him to focus on something other than killing Metok, he said, "Sonny, need your help."

Not the most medically inclined, though he did have the basics down and could do a tourniquet, start an IV, and such, Sonny said, "What do you need me to do?" as he took a knee beside Clay.

"Stay close. Hold his hand and if he stirs, talk to him. Let him know we are here." Jason didn't need to tell Sonny why he chose him for that duty. The entire team understood the connection which developed between their youngest member and their gruffest member who tried to hide the fact he possessed feelings. Clay responded best to Sonny's voice … Mexico proved that to them. The timbre of the Texan calmed the kid like nothing else.

The men of Bravo got to work. Niranjan translated their needs to Padma, and she procured everything they needed, the women of her family coming in to help by bringing pots to boil water, and many pieces of fabric.

Jason started the IV and transfusion of blood products for Trent, as their medic began to painstakingly pull out every last needle, including the ones so far embedded they required a pair of tweezers to grip them. Though Clay remained oblivious to their gentle ministrations, Sonny still held his hand and kept up a dialog, just in case.

Cerb kept guard on the man who hurt his boy … he itched to bite him again but obeyed Brock.

Ray returned and with Brock's assistance, they spread out a clean sheet to which they would transfer Clay once he was thoroughly washed.

Metok pulled his arm close to his body and reached for a bowl of tea near him with the uninjured one. He gulped down the cold tea, needing to sate his dry mouth. Within a few moments of swallowing, he realized what he drank ... the tea he brewed for Padma. As pain shot through his stomach, he coughed once, and his throat seized. Falling to the side unable to breathe, suffocating to death, he stared at the hound from hell, and it almost seemed to him the dog smiled, knowing he was dying.

Cerb communicated with his eyes,  _You're going to hell … where you belong for hurting my boy. No one will miss you._  When the man no longer moved, he turned to Brock. "Bark yip bark ruff."  _The man is dead … he drank something, and it killed him._

Brock peered over at Cerb and caught sight of the so-called doctor. "Um, Jace, I think the guy died."

Jason turned and took in the open-eyed dead stare and noted the bit of blood running from Metok's mouth and the empty bowl beside him.

Padma quickly spoke to Niranjan, who translated, "He drank poison he made … must have forgotten."

No one gave the man another thought as Clay moaned.

Rousing, his pain intense, Clay couldn't stop the sound from coming out. Sluggishly his mind registered a change. Someone held his hand … the fingers calloused but the grip gentle not painful. Sounds came next … a soft drawl he cherished.

"We're here, brother. I'm holding on, and you are going to be okay. You just concentrate on my voice. Trent can't give ya anything to stop the pain yet, so you listen to me. You are safe now. No one is gonna be setting you on fire anymore."

Clay tried to open an eye, but the crusties were back, sealing it shut again. His throat raw, he croaked, "Sonny?"

"That's right, Goldilocks. I'm here. Not going anywhere."

"Hurts."

"I know, buddy."

"You came."

"Always … always." Sonny choked up and lightly brushed the kid's cheek with his fingertip.

Clay drifted off into nothingness again … this time, secure in the knowledge he was safe with his brothers … he endured … they came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed them finding Clay ... now they just have to get him home safe. Hmm ... wonder what they might encounter on the journey back to Nepal? Evil muse is working on that. :)


	8. One Mean Medic

 

**_Padma's Tent_ **

Trent finished dressing Clay's back. Once he got all the crap …  _literal crap - who the hell mixes dried yak dung with yak butter_  … off of his teammate and gently cleansed the area he was surprised to find that most of the cuts for the wet cupping …  _medieval bloodletting_  … luckily were superficial. The possibility of scaring from them slimmer than he originally believed.

Also, he found that a lot of the redness to be related to the suctioning … thankfully not burns. Though there were burns for certain … lots of them … but again the kid lucked out …  _if getting second-degree burns is considered lucky_  … and in this case, yeah, luckier than third degree.

He had Jason start the kid on the broad-spectrum antibiotic because the multitude of needles jammed into the kid from head to toe … although heated … god knows what they had on them before. And the knife used to make the cuts was filthy … and so were the glass cups. Trent saw residue he couldn't begin to fathom the source of … made his skin crawl.

Trent ensured the nasal cannula was positioned properly and adjusted the flow of oxygen, still not satisfied with the kid's respiration. He sat back on his heels and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "Okay. Done what I can for his back. He's gonna be in a world of pain for some time, but none of the injuries on this side appear life-threatening, but his weak and shallow breathing concerns me. I need him on his back, to check the front and maybe find a source for his depressed respiration."

Sonny still held Clay's hand, but he had long since stopped murmuring to the kid. The amount of time taken by their medic to tend the kid … extensive, but he appreciated the meticulous level of care given. "Isn't that gonna hurt him?"

"Yeah, but no choice. I need to examine his leg and eyes. And anything else I can't see yet." Trent shifted his gaze to Jason. "I'm not ready to roll him to the sterile sheet, but I want something cleaner for his back to rest on."

Jason rose and turned to Niranjan. "Ask them if they have a clean blanket we can use." He waited as their interpreter did as requested. He stretched his back noting the men of this encampment had taken care of removing the dead men while the women set about cleaning up the mess. Padma remained near the fire, mixing herbs in water as it boiled.  _No way in hell is Trent going to allow her to give the kid any of that._

Niranjan turned back to Jason and said. "Someone will bring fabric in a moment, but Padma's father wants to know how long you will be here."

"We'll leave as soon as Trent says Clay is able to travel. Don't use names when you tell him that."

"Depends on what I find," Trent called over his shoulder and took a sip of water.

After relaying the vague answer to the patriarch of the family, and listening to the man again, Niranjan reported, "When you are ready to leave, they have a cart you can use to transport Clay. He also said his daughter, Padma and youngest son Jinpa are willing to go with you to … they will use the cart to bring home his other son on their way back … the burned body we found."

"I'll think about that … depends." Jason turned back to Trent.

Cerb hovered out of the way but wanted to go closer to his boy. He finally lay down at Clay's feet and nudged them with his nose before settling his head on his paws.

Brock reached out and patted Cerb. "Good boy. You found our kid. When we get back … there is a steak with your name on it."

Sonny grinned. "A Texas-sized one."

Cerb perked up.  _Steak … yummy._  Then he moved, getting out of the way again as one of the other human's brought in something.

Once the blanket arrived, three pairs of hands carefully lifted Clay while one ensured the oxygen didn't slip off him as the last pair laid the clean linen under him. They rotated their brother and with as much care as possible lowered him on his back, each one hoping Spenser didn't wake in the process.

A small sigh of relief expelled from everyone when the front side of the kid didn't show major trauma. The only injury they noted was a nasty gash on his right thigh … which was blackened.

"Cauterized the leg wound. Not the prettiest and it would've been damned-painful when they did it, but doing so probably stopped the bleeding, which in turn saved his life." Trent put on fresh gloves and began the process of debriding the wound, glad he had Jason start the antibiotics after he found an abscess filled with puss when removing a crusted charred piece of flesh.

Clay moaned and he began to regain consciousness.  _No, not again … not on my back … sadistic bastards._  As pain shot through his thigh again renewing the throbbing which had dissipated, he wanted to return to nothingness where nothing hurt. The sweet bitter liquid always took him there. His tongue darted out … an action which brought the liquid to him in the past.

Padma rushed over with her bowl upon hearing the groan and noting the tongue. "He needs my potion. It will help him sleep … stop the pain."

The lyrical voice returned and Clay turned toward it … she would send him to nothingness. He opened his mouth … waiting … wanting … almost ready to beg, but they didn't speak his language so the open mouth would have to suffice.

Ray put out a hand to stop her from reaching Clay as he barked, "Ma-ray ka kak,"  _'no, stop'_  in Tibetan. No way Trent would allow Spenser to be given any more of stuff he couldn't identify and as well-meaning as these people appeared … nobody would touch the kid except them … absolutely no one.

Clay moaned again … the male would prevent him from having relief from the agony. He hated the man. "Want … nothingness," he managed though they wouldn't understand.

"Hey, hang on, kid," Jason said moving closer.

Disoriented hearing English … it didn't fit, Clay turned in the opposite direction to the new voice. "Jason?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Sweet … bitter … no pain," he tried to communicate he wanted the drink as he recalled his brothers came for him. "Aaaargh," erupted as intense pressure on his thigh resulted in agony. He panted trying to draw in enough air.

"Sorry," Trent gritted his teeth, hating to cause pain, but needing to eliminate all the infected goo. "Can't give you meds … need to clean this wound."

Padma peered at the interpreter. "Tell them this will help. He will sleep. No pain."

Niranjan told Trent, who turned his eyes to the woman.

"Ask her what is in it … I need to know what crap she's been giving him." As Trent listened to Niranjan translate the ingredients his ire grew and he raked a hand through his hair. "Shit … he's been drugged with opium and god knows how much and for how long … no wonder his respiration is so fucking weak … shit. This is bad … so bad." He glared at the woman. "Get her and her crap away from Clay."

Incensed, Niranjan bit back, "She is only trying to help."

Trent growled, "Some fucking help … he's probably addicted to the drug by now. And he's damned lucky she didn't overdose him … his system is sensitive to opiates."

Cerb inched forward, hoping not to be shooed away. All the humans were peering at Trent, so he managed to get next to Clay's hand and he licked it gently.  _I'm here. You can hold onto me too._

Clay felt the soft tongue … Cerb. He lifted his hand … took almost all his energy … and lay it on the pup's head. His fingers curled into the soft fur and held on. Though not cognizant of everything, he caught some of what Trent said … no painkillers would be forthcoming.  _I'm going to have to endure more shit … but my hell will end … my brothers will help me._

Brock shifted his gaze and noted where Cerberus laid.  _Damn, my dog loves Clay … maybe more than he does me._  Brock didn't begrudge the connection.  _The kid needs everyone he can get. If he's addicted to opioids withdrawal is gonna suck._

Padma looked on, tears in her eyes at being pushed away and unable to take away the blond's pain. Though she wanted to be angry at these men for increasing his agony she recognized the tender way they all handled him, and the distraught expressions on their faces … human expression of concern universal regardless of the language one spoke.

The burly one with broad shoulders and a twange in his tone never let go of the younger one's hand. The tall man with dark curly hair, who handled the dog … his eyes were almost as expressive as the canine. The medic was mean and rough, but everyone looked to him first and whatever he said they seemed to react. The darker skinned man appeared to be the calmest … but even he became protective and he scared her when he yelled at her. The last man, the one with an angry face and brusk tone, was certainly the leader … a good one as far as she could tell. Like her father, he appeared to listen to the others … though that was only conjecture since she didn't understand a single thing any of them said.

Trent patted Clay's hip once he finished the painful cleaning. "All done, buddy. Next up, I'm taking a look at your eyes."

Clay blew out a shaky breath, having clenched his jaw until he thought his teeth would crack while Trent set his thigh to throbbing again. He wanted the sweet liquid … or morphine. His back on fire … he finally begged, "Shoot me up … please."

Jason took one glance at Trent's agonized, yet steely features. "You can get through this. Only a little longer. Squeeze Sonny's hand if you need too."

Sonny's brows arched.  _If the kid squeezed any harder, he'll break my bones._  But he said, "That's right. Hold tight."

Cerberus almost wished he had waited … his boy's grip on his hair … well, he would be sporting a bit of a bald spot. But he didn't move.  _My boy needs me … and my pain is nothing like what he is enduring._

Trent shifted positions with Jason. "I need warm sterile saline to clean all this gunk off his lids." He turned to Padma again and pointed to Clay's eyes. "Did you do this?" he asked with an accusatory tone.

Niranjan sighed and translated, using nicer words. After Padma explained to him, he refocused on Trent. "She says yes. She never encountered an injury like his. He was unconscious when she and her brother found him. He woke the first night and that is when she noticed the whites of his eyes were blood red and he couldn't see them. She put a protective salve on them and wrapped his head with a cloth. Padma wanted a doctor to examine them, but Metok refused, and wouldn't allow her to remove the fabric to check on them after he looked at them."

Ray's heart dropped to his stomach. _Please, Lord, don't let him be blind._

"Saw blobs," Clay breathed out … the lack of air causing him to become lightheaded. He hadn't been awake this long in a while and quite frankly, didn't want to be. Beyond caring how it would look or that he should be some stoic SEAL, some superman … he wasn't and he craved relief. "Please, Trent … a little morphine. Can't take more pain … please."

Trent's face screwed up and his fists clenched. _Fuck! I've got to be a bastard to him for his own good. This part of being a medic SUCKS!_ "Not yet, little buddy."

Clay gave up holding in his moans … figuring Trent didn't believe him. He heard the part about addicted but at the moment he could give a royal-flying-fuck … he fucking hurt.

The sounds shredded the team's hearts, and they watched as their stone-cold medic teared up and liquid ran down his cheeks … but Trent wouldn't give in … giving morphine at this point could stop the kid's breathing … they all recognized that and hoped Clay would forgive them at some point for allowing him to be in pain because they wanted to save his life.

Ray handed Trent a warmed bag of saline and then patted his shoulder, offering support and acknowledgment of the hard decision he made.

Trent dribbled the saline over Clay's eyes then dabbed with sterile gauze, gently wiping the crusted-on salve. At least the rust color came from the herbs used and not blood. But until he could clear away the gunk, he couldn't open the kid's eyes to check them out. "I'm going to clean your eyelids, but I don't want you to open until I say. Understand, Clay?"

"Copy, bastard." Clay griped because Trent wouldn't give him any morphine.

"Knock that shit off, kid, Trent would give it to you if he could. We prefer you breathing." Jason picked up another piece of gauze and mimicked Trent's motions on Clay's other eye.

Jason sat back once both were cleaned and peered at the youngest member of his team. Though he couldn't have prevented the chute malfunction, he wished like hell they continued to search for the kid instead of rescuing three stupid women who ignored the advisory not to wander far from their mission. They were kidnapped because they believed the rules didn't apply to them, and his brother was paying the cost. It pissed him off.

Switching gloves yet again, glad Davis supplied him with a full box, Trent said, "Alight. I'm gonna open one and I need you to tell me if you can see anything." He lifted Clay's right lid, noting the fading signs of subconjunctival hemorrhage, likely caused by his rapid attitude change with his fast entry, or perhaps from crashing through the trees.

"Sonny's ugly mug is improved with blurriness," Clay said as he continued to squeeze the life out of his brother's hand, knowing it must hurt Quinn, but needing to transfer some of his pain.

Sonny snorted as he grinned. "I'll take blurry."

"Close, and let me open the other." Trent breathed a partial sigh of relief. _One down … one to go._ Blurriness could be related to being shut for days, but an ophthalmologist would need to do a thorough exam because he didn't possess the knowledge.

Clay's vision was fuzzy, but he focused on Trent and he sort of came into view. "One fucking mean medic … give me some damned morphine."

"Been through that already … love the attitude though, means you're still fighting and with us. Gonna patch your eyes to be on the safe side. Both eyes suffered from a hemorrhage … a small blood vessel broke and filled the whites with blood … usually, they resolve on their own and yours appears to be fading from what the interpreter says the woman describe initially."

Before his eye shut, Clay zeroed in on Trent and his voice came out in a whisper … pleading one more time, "Please give me something … it hurts so much I want to fade away … don't care if I die."

The desperation in the single blue orb finally undid Trent. "Only a little, just a tiny bit to take the edge off."

Clay released Sonny's hand and felt around for Trent's. He found his pant leg instead of hand because Trent reached for the morphine injector. Clay gripped the material as he moaned out a soft, "Thanks."

Sonny shook his hand out, the pins and needles stinging as blood rushed back in hurt, but it only pissed him off because he understood his sensation was only a fraction of what the kid was dealing with if he was begging … literally begging for meds. He glanced over at Cerb. _Oh, shit, poor dog._ "Brock … um," he pointed.

Brock loosened Clay's fingers from Cerb's fur, some of it coming with them. He squeezed Clay's hand. "Hold on to me for a bit." He grimaced as the painful pressure seized his hand. With is other, he scratched Cerb behind the ear. _Definitely getting a Texas-sized steak._

Cerb met Brock's eyes and he conveyed,  _thanks … think I'm a bit bald now … but that's okay._

After giving Clay a small dose, Trent turned to Jason. "I don't want to move him tonight, but if he is in this much pain, we need him in the hospital sooner than later. I'm gonna watch his respirations with an eagle eye and keep him dosed as much as I can … I just hope he passes out and stays that way … it would be safest."

In all seriousness, Sonny clenched his fist as he said, "I can knock him out. I don't want him in fucking agony the whole way to exfil."

Clay's grip on both Brock and Trent eased … his mind becoming foggy, drifting closer to blessed nothingness … he just wanted to fade away.

In the end, Jason declined the offer of an escort and use of a cart, the bumpy terrain would be murder on Clay. They would use the collapsible stretcher they brought. But they did accept a thick pad they put on the stretcher before placing Clay on his stomach and covering him with a sterile sheet, and a blanket to protect his back.

After Jason communicated with Havoc, and each man consumed an MRE, hydrated, and took a piss, Jason, Ray, Sonny, and Brock each gripped a corner handhold and lifted.

Trent stopped at the tent's flap with the interpreter and said, "Please tell Padma we are grateful for all she and her brother did, and sorry her brother died trying to help Clay."

Niranjan repeated the words.

Padma gave the man a sad smile and nodded then watched as they faded into nothingness in the dark of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come ... hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	9. Shields and Defenses Crumble

_**Somewhere in China** _

As the first hint of light graced the sky, Bravo team finished setting up the camouflage canopy in the woods, creating an area large enough for five. Niranjan sank to the ground and leaned against the trunk of a tree, exhausted beyond belief. Never had he run so much, and he barely kept up with the soldiers … um, sailors per Miss Davis … and he was not carrying a litter with a friend.

The five men astounded him, well, six actually. The able-bodied ones kept up a grueling pace, wanting to cover as much ground as possible before daylight because they desired the young blond to be in a hospital as soon as humanly possible. They switched off carrying him at twenty-minute intervals, and each time they halted, the medic would take vitals of their teammate. He never once heard any of them complain about what must be a heavy burden which must've zapped their energy.

And Spenser … the man never made a sound as he was jostled while they carried him, though he remained awake for the most part. Each time the medic checked him, he quietly asked for pain meds, but he was denied because his respirations were not at a level Trent deemed safe. Niranjan couldn't fathom how the young man managed to not moan in pain … but he didn't.

Jason took a knee near Trent. "How's our boy?"

"Not good, Jace. Wish to god we were in Nepal already." Trent adjusted the oxygen, upping the flow again, grateful the kid slept for the moment. "He's exhausted from just trying to breathe, not to mention the pain he endured as we bounced him around."

Noting Clay's hands were now lax, instead of tightly gripping the stretcher's edge as he had each time they stopped during the night, Sonny took a seat opposite of Jason and Trent. "The kid's gonna make it. He's not gonna let go now that we have him. He wouldn't dare 'cause he knows I'd kick his ass in the afterlife."

Ray chuckled. "Okay, interesting reasoning there, Sonny boy."

"It's true. I would." Sonny took a sip of water and peered at Trent. "If you need more oxygen, Goldilocks can have mine."

"We're good. Davis provided more than enough tanks." Trent sat back on his heels.

Jason stood. "Trent, Sonny, Ray, rack out. Brock and I have first watch."

"I need to keep an eye on him," Trent said.

"You need sleep." Jason eyed Trent.

"Can't, if his respirations drop, I—"

"Wasn't a suggestion. Grab some shut eye. I'll check him every ten minutes."

Relenting, Trent nodded, and after taking a sip of water, he stretched out on the ground, using his pack as a cushion for his head. Within a few moments he was lightly snoozing … his body forcing him to rest, though his medic mind wanted to remain vigilant.

Sonny chose to lie next to Clay and clasp the kid's hand, giving him a tangible link to his brothers. It would also alert him if Clay's pain spiked because his little brother would most assuredly squeeze the life out of his hand again if his pain became overwhelming. Sonny put his other arm behind his head and gazed up at the canopy. He tried to slow the thoughts but they wouldn't quiet.

The thing which bothered him most was that they had been within three hundred yards of where the kid went down the night of the HAHO jump. If they had only continued their search a little longer, then Clay would not have suffered medieval torture posing as medical care.

For the life of him, Sonny couldn't understand what cupping, fire or wet, could do for Clay's leg injury since that was the only wound the kid got while crashing through the trees. Well, a few scratches and the blood in the whites of his eyes too, but Sonny understood that although bloody eyes looked downright scary, most of the time it was minor. Hell, he ended up with a subconjunctival hemorrhage once when he sneezed hard. Sonny drifted off, realizing the most significant hurdle might be an addiction to opiates.  _Damn, the kid never has it easy._

Brock took up a position a little way from the cover where they set Clay down. His location afforded him a decent view to the south and east, Jason would scan the north and west. He absently petted Cerb's back, the simple act bringing him calm, as the sun peeked over the horizon.

Aside from the opium-laced tea she gave Clay, Brock gave thanks for Padma. The one thing he realized as they jogged last night was when they found the kid, aside from the yak butter shit on his back and the crusted salve sealing his eyes shut, he was clean … no stench of urine or crap. Which meant the woman cared for Clay's basic needs for many days. Also, the kid didn't appear much thinner … so she must've fed him more than only the tea.

Keeping his voice soft, Brock said, "Kid's gonna need some extra care, boy. You up for keeping vigil on him?"

Cerb's ears perked up, and he turned to Brock. _Yeah, you betcha we'll be there for our boy._  He turned his head towards Clay, back to Brock, and returned to Clay.  _I want to go to him_ , his soulful brown eyes communicated.

"Go on … I know you want to be near him. He'll take comfort in you being close too." Brock grinned as Cerb trotted over to Clay and laid down on the side opposite of Sonny and managed to work his head under the kid's limp hand, so it rested on his neck.

Clay roused with the movement of his hand. With consciousness came agony … but at least he was still and not jouncing as the guys jogged. All through the night, he maintained a white-knuckled grip on the narrow metal poles that ran along each side of the stretcher. Though he realized he was strapped down, with no chance of falling off, his death grip had more to do with concentrating on not screaming.

His disjointed mind did register if they were moving at night, it meant they were not safe, so he refused to cry out and possibly give them away. He used every bit of his energy to remain silent, swallowing every moan and groan … he didn't want to be the cause of any of his brother's deaths.

Clay felt the calloused hand he identified as Sonny's and Cerb's fur under his other hand. His fingers moved slightly, burrowing into the softness, seeking comfort because he knew Trent would refuse him painkillers if he begged again.

He drifted in and out several times having no idea how much time passed, but a rustle indicating steps coming toward him made Clay wonder which one of his brothers approached. Warm fingers placed on his throat told him someone was taking his pulse. Miserable, Clay eked out, "Meds, please."

Checking the kid's vitals for the seventh time, every ten minutes as he promised Trent, the pitiful sound from his rookie tore at Jason's heart. He wished Clay remained out of it. "Just rest. Try to relax and sleep. We'll be stopped all day."

"Hurts."

Jason rested his and on Clay's neck and lightly rubbed. "Wish I could give you something."

"But Trent won't let you," Clay said.

"For your own good." Noting Clay tremoring, Jason asked, "Are you cold?"

"No … I fucking hurt." Needing to focus on something else, aware begging wouldn't work with Jason, he asked, "Where the hell are we?"

"Tibet … a night's run from the border of Nepal … maybe two depending on if we need to slow down." Jason continued to massage the kid's neck, and moved up to his head too, offering what comfort he could.

"You rescue the women?"

"Yeah … then we came after you." Jason gut twisted, wishing he had searched longer for the kid.

"Good." Clay shifted, and a moan escaped.

"Hey, stay still."

Clay sucked up his embarrassment as he said, "Gotta take a piss."

"I'll help." Sonny sat up, having roused when Clay spoke.

Jason searched for something to use as a urinal, then between him and Sonny they carefully rolled Clay to his side and assisted him with the necessary task. The restrained groans of pain mixed with the kid's face screwed up in grimaces caused both men to silently curse the fact they couldn't relive his pain.

After resettling Clay, Sonny put the kid's hand back on top of Cerb. "The hair missile did awesome … led us right to you."

Clay's fingers moved in the fur as he sought to focus on something other than his pain and he came across a bald spot and gingerly probed wondering what caused the dog to lose hair. "Cerb hurt?"

"Huh?" Sonny turned from getting a water bottle set up to offer Clay a sip as Jason went back to his overwatch position.

"Bald."

Cerb met Sonny's eyes.  _Don't you tell him it was him … don't you dare!_

"Um, well, not really. Rubbed his head on something a little too hard." Sonny stared at the dog and got the distinct impression he was pleased with his answer.

 _Good boy, Sonny … not so dense. Maybe I'll share my Texas-sized steak with you … well, perhaps not, you won't want to eat from my bowl._  Cerberus turned his focus back on his boy.

"Here, take a few sips, Trent wants you to stay hydrated." Sonny put the bottle with a straw to Clay's mouth.

Clay complied, then whispered, "Sonny shoot me a little, just enough to take the edge off."

"No can do, little buddy."

"Please … I'd do it for you … won't tell Trent."

"Not happening. Quit asking, Pony Boy." Sonny stared at Clay's bandaged eyes, glad the baby blues couldn't see the anguish which plainly displayed at the prospect of denying him … and he couldn't view the pain which would clearly show in Clay's eyes too.

Changing tactics, needing the relief, Clay played the  _'you owe me'_  card. "You can take me outside the wire and get me drunk, get me abducted and gutted but you can't give me a little shot of morphine. Some fucking brother you are."

Sonny clenched his fists as Clay's words stabbed his heart, but he bit back, "Yeah … I am some fucking brother alright. One who isn't gonna kill you by giving in. So cry, moan, hell, scream your pain and I'll stay right here to hold your hand, but I am not going to shoot you up with morphine. God knows how much you've had."

Clay's shoulders shook, and his face scrunched up as a long-held sob came out. He was so tired of pain … so exhausted and his shields and defenses crumbled with Sonny's retort.

Sonny moved in close to Clay's ear as he grasped his hand. "I'm here. Jesus Christ, I'm sorry … hang in there, Wonder Boy." He continued to whisper supportive words as Clay cried. Sonny wanted to embrace his little brother, but moving him in any way caused him more pain, so he stroked his head and held his hand … as Texas-sized tears rolled down his own cheeks.

When the kid quieted, Sonny let out a ragged breath and wiped his face dry … unashamed of shedding tears … because if he couldn't cry for a brother in ungodly pain, then there was no reason to possess tear ducts.

* * *

**_TOC in Nepal_ **

"Good copy. Safe travels tonight. So far satellites have detected no troop movements in your area, but without ISR our data is delayed," Eric said after Jason reported in. He glanced over at Lisa, who refused to go lie down in the cots in the next room today. Instead, she sat slumped over the table, her head resting on her arm.

He could've ordered her to go but chose to let her stay. He would wake her in an hour when the sun set so she could monitor the comms as Bravo continued their trip towards the border. The direction of his gaze changed as Mandy entered.

Mandy spotted Davis sleeping so kept her voice soft as she reported the latest detail. "We've identified men who took Clay and confirmed they were part of the same group who abducted the women. But they aren't who we believed them to be."

"Then who are they?" Eric moved towards Mandy when she waved him over as she set a folder down on the table.

"Not a terrorist cell. A contact here identified this man." She pointed to a rough looking man with a weather-beaten face. "This is Prakash Sinjali, a Nepalese man who heads a human trafficking ring specializing in younger females. The three taken were targeted because they would bring in a higher price in the sex trade market. This group takes women usually, sometimes kids, across the border into Tibet and holds them until they locate a buyer."

She pulled over a chair and wearily lowered herself into the seat. "He is not among the dead when they rescued the women nor in that encampment where Clay ended up. But this man," she tapped another photo, one with a bullet between his eyes, "Samdup is a Tibetan and Prakash's his second in command. He was with the group holding the women. Those killed at the encampment are underlings and were likely waiting for Samdup's direction before moving Spenser."

"But why would they want Clay … he's neither a woman nor a child." Eric asked, perplexed. If not dealing with a terrorist group, why would they take Clay and indicate he was a bigger prize.

Lisa rubbed her eyes as she lifted her head. "He's a handsome, blond, young man."

Eric scrunched his face. "Are you saying what I think?"

Lisa nodded.

Mandy shrugged. "There is a market for every type." She shuddered as she relayed what her contact shared. "Some people take great pleasure in well, controlling someone with Clay's abilities and looks. They like to break alpha males and well … you get the drift. Men like him garner top dollar since they are so rarely available in the trade. It is why they wanted him alive."

Eric could only shake his head as he dropped into his chair. "If the guys get wind of this … Spenser being taken as a terrorist trophy is one thing … but to be taken to be sold into sex slavery quite another. Whoa. I don't know if I should tell them that."

Lisa stood, needing a coffee. "I wouldn't tell them until they return … but Jason will be breathing down Mandy's back until he finds out who is behind hurting Clay, so he'll have to be told at some point. Either of you want a coffee?"

"Sure, thanks," Mandy said.

Eric nodded and raked fingers through his hair. "So this Prakash Sinjali, he is still unaccounted for?"

"Yeah. Too early to know for sure, but we may be asked to assist in locating him and bringing him in. The authorities here are getting a black eye with western countries, and worried about tourism dropping with several women disappearing over the last year."

"I'm sure Bravo would be interested." Eric leaned back.  _Yeah, they'll want to go after the son of a bitch … after they ensure the kid will be alright. Sonny for damn sure will want payback._

* * *

_**Somewhere in China** _

Trent finished checking Clay's leg, back, and eyes. Although the redness from the blood faded a bit more, Spenser's vision remained blurry, so he applied new patches to protect them. He decided he had more studying to do when they returned. His collection of medical books was growing, and he might need to invest in a new bookcase to hold them.

Jason finished his MRE and watched as Ray helped the kid guide the straw to his mouth. For the last twenty minutes, Clay sat up, propped between Sonny and Brock, so his back didn't rest on anything because he didn't possess the strength to keep himself upright. The position helped with his respiration … or so he believed, but Trent said it was more likely the opium level dropping in his system.

Tonight would be another fun night for the kid …  _NOT_. In addition to the pain caused by jostling him around, Trent said Spenser would begin to experience withdrawal symptoms. Although not life-threatening they would add significantly to Clay's misery. Trent never considered a possible opioid addiction when he requested supplies, so his med kit didn't include the drugs which would shorten the intensity and length of detoxification.

"Alright, Clay … tell me again what you are supposed to do," Trent said as he changed out the saline bag.

Clay listed to the side, needing to lay down but his body liking the short reprieve from being on his stomach or back. His breaths came easier, and Trent had given him a large dose of ibuprofen, which although didn't put much of a dent in his agony, at least it was more than nothing.

"Hey, Tea Kettle, no tipping over," Sonny teased as he ensured the kid stayed upright. Clay's crying jag must've released a lot of pent up tension because the kid conked out most of the day … which was a blessing for all of them. He slept, and they slept … each getting a short reprieve before tonight's journey through hell again for their brother.

"I'm waiting. Do you recall or should I repeat?" Trent waited, unsure how cognizant Clay was when he laid out the ground rules.

"If I need to vomit, my heart races, or I'm thirsty speak up."

"Three out of five … not bad. If you need to piss or crap … we'll stop. Diarrhea is a common and unpleasant symptom. Not sure what is in your digestive tract so not sure if you'll experience much in the way of that one." Trent hefted his pack on his back.

"Hope it passes me by," Clay grumbled. The only benefit of having the patches over his eyes is he didn't need to look any of them in the eye … being helped to piss and crap not his idea of fun.

Jason pushed up to his feet. "Time to get going."

The guys moved forward to gently lower Clay to his stomach and strap him in before putting on their packs, and lifting the litter. They set off at a slower pace so they could ease the kid into the motion, but none of them missed his white-knuckled grip on the poles. They were in for another grueling night and wished the kid would fade into nothingness for the duration, but that was unlikely with as much as he slept today, and oh, another wonderful withdrawal symptom … inability to sleep coupled with restlessness.


	10. Rough Night

_**Somewhere in China** _

Time spun, and Clay could only mark the passing by the changing of the guard so to speak. About every thirty minutes they halted, lowered him to the earth, Trent checked his pulse, respiration, fiddled with his oxygen, and denied him pain meds. Someone, it varied, offered him a drink and wiped his sweaty brow. He relaxed his death grip while they did this and attempted to quell his ever-present nausea.

Then up he went as one of the four carrying him swapped out with the whoever had been on point, and his brothers trotted into the night. The constant bouncing increasing nausea, Clay held out for as long as he could, but the prospect of puking all over where he lay and having to smell the stench afterward, caused him to reach his hand forward to where Sonny gripped the handle.

"Stop. Gonna. Hurl," Clay's voice came out clipped and pained.

Four men halted, and in a flash lowered the stretcher. Trent and Jason each took hold under an armpit as Brock and Sonny unbuckled the straps holding Clay down, while Ray maintained watch. Within ten seconds Jason and Trent lifted and moved the kid a little away from his litter, placing him on his knees and maintaining their grasp on him, helping him lean over.

Clay retched. The water he consumed mixed with bile burned his throat as it came up and ended up in the leaves below him. His back screamed in agony each time he hunched over as his abdomen muscles contracted with each heave. His body shivered as he gasped for breath, difficult to do with snot filling his nose and his insides coming out his mouth.

Sonny crouched, out of puke range, but close enough to reach the kid's face. A runny nose according to Trent was one more symptom they could expect with opiate withdrawal. He slipped the nose cannula off and wiped Clay's nose before putting another piece of gauze, since they didn't have tissue, up to his leaking nostrils. "Blow, Blondezilla … you need to be able to inhale." Satisfied when Clay blew, he grabbed another gauze pad and had the kid repeat the action between several bouts of vomiting. Once the tide appeared to ebb, he cleaned off the cannula and settled it in place so Clay would receive the necessary oxygen.

While the others assisted Spenser, Brock started to change the sheet over the stretcher. The kid was sweating bullets, and it was soaked through, something to be expected with withdrawal. Luckily, Trent had the foresight to request several pieces of linen from Padma's family … who happily obliged since Bravo essentially saved their lives. Brock glanced over to Clay as the sounds of upchucking changed to a strangled cry.

"Cramp," Clay said through gritted teeth.

"Where?" Trent demanded.

"Calf." Clay retched again … unsure which hurt more … his lungs from his inability to breath, the stabbing pain in his stomach as it tried to exit via his throat, his flaming and stinging back, or his right calf muscle trying to ball up … each one alone would be miserable, all together … unbearable.

Trent shifted, still gripping Clay's arm, but allowing Jason to take more of the kid's weight, as he awkwardly reached behind and pushed Clay's toes upward to stretch the seizing muscle.

"Here, I'll help," Brock rushed to them to take over from Trent. As Brock applied pressure to flex Clay's foot, he also massaged the calf.

Niranjan made himself useful and finished putting down the dry linen and folded the wet. He looked on … amazed how these men worked in unison without much communication. He wondered if they were typical of all American soldiers … um, sailors … SEALs … yeah, SEALs … easier to remember. Though it also surprised him how caring they were. He had an image of Americans as aggressive and unfeeling, but the tenderness they displayed to their teammate didn't fit his preconceived notions.

After finishing, Niranjan sat and pulled out a water as he tried to tune out the sounds of the young man being sick. Being around ill or injured people made him uncomfortable which is why he studied languages instead of medicine as his parents had wanted. He wouldn't have a clue how to help the shaking man, so another plus for the SEALs, apparently, in addition to being cold-blooded killing machines, they could save lives too.

His body so weak and tremoring, Clay understood he would be lying in the dirt without his brother's support. They helped him with everything except his unrelenting pain. "Trent, need morphine."

"That's the addiction talking." Trent shook his head at Jason who eyed him. Yeah, it was fairly dark with only the light of a waxing crescent moon, but being this close to Hayes, he couldn't miss the glare condemning him as an asshole for denying the kid more than a few ibuprofens several hours ago.

"Fuck you! It is fucking pain, give me something," Clay snapped. He gasped for another breath having used what little he had to complain.

"Hey, Ken Doll, Trent's only—" Sonny started.

"Fuck you too …" Clay's head lolled to his chest, but only for a minute and then he was gagging again … but with nothing left, he only dry heaved.

"Trent, perhaps a little …" Ray suggested. His heart couldn't take much more of the kid begging, and he wasn't convinced it was only addiction … the kid was in a world of hurt.

Tired of being the bad guy and pissed off he wasn't prepared with what the kid required, Trent released Clay's arm and stood, leaving Jason and Sonny to pick up the slack. He strode twenty paces to a tree, balled up a fist, and pulled back to punch, but his arm was seized before it made contact.

"Sorry." Ray apologized as he stopped Trent from doing something stupid. "This isn't your fault, and you're making the tough choices."

Yanking his arm free, Trent glanced back at Spencer, overhearing the moans as Clay's body continued to react to the cessation of opioids. His voice came out strained and soft, so it didn't carry, "This is killing me. Wish I had something to give him to reduce his symptoms … but I don't. And ibuprofen isn't doing shit for his pain, but I gave him the max dose."

"We'll get him to help as fast as possible. No way you could predict this scenario." Ray placed his hand on Trent's shoulder. "Clay will understand … and after he kicks this … he will hold no ill will towards you."

"Doesn't make me feel better." Trent stepped back, and out of Ray's offer of … well, understanding. He wasn't in a rational place to forgive himself yet. Maybe later … much, much later. "Need a moment … alone."

"Okay, brother. Don't go far." Ray watched as Trent walked a few paces away and slumped down to the ground, burying his face in his palms. He recognized how much of a burden they placed on the medic's shoulders … one they all needed to share more equally. Keeping Spenser alive and well was quite difficult. Ray returned his eyes to scanning the area to keep them safe from any potential hostiles, though Havoc had not reported any type of activity in the surrounding area.

Jason adjusted his position, taking a seat as Clay's charley horse eased. "Sonny, Brock, shift him on his side, head in my lap. We'll take a ten-minute break, give the kid a chance to rest."

Clay allowed the others to move him, embarrassed to be laying in Jason's lap, yet at the same time, it provided him the comfort he needed. Unconsciously, his hand sought someone's, anyone's, to grip as he rode the downward crest of another pain wave.

"Breathe, just breathe slow in and slow out. We'll get you through this." Clasping Spenser's hand, Jason studied the kid's face which was awash in the moonlight. Times like this he wondered how the kid would've faired in another team. Not all teams were as tightknit as Bravo … Fuller's Charlie Team for sure as hell was not.

His mind turned on him, instead of gloating about how Bravo took care of the kid, he began to wonder if Bravo was the reason Clay was injured so often. If Jason had not had first selection and chose the wonder boy, the kid wouldn't have been on all the missions which caused him pain and scarred his body. Jason sighed and peered over at Sonny when the Texan tapped his arm.

"Drink." Sonny shoved water at Jason.

"Thanks." He took a long swig before returning his attention to Clay. "Want to rinse your mouth?"

Holding as still as possible to keep his queasiness at bay, Clay answered, "No."

"Sure?"

"Move, and I'll puke again."

"Got ya covered, Garfield. You lie there and let me do everything." Sonny grabbed a large piece of plastic which had enclosed one of the sterile burn pads Trent used to cover the kid's back. He tucked it under Clay's cheek which lay on Jason's leg and positioned the rest of the plastic to act as a channel to keep Jason's pants dry and direct the liquid into the dirt. "Okay, gonna give you a sip and after you swish, just let it run out … no need to lift your head or move."

Clay rinsed, grateful to eliminate a bit of the acrid taste. When he finished rinsing three times, Sonny dabbed his chin and lips dry. With the lack of movement came a small reprieve from his agony. He dreaded the coming hours because although he wanted to remain right here … they couldn't and Jason wouldn't … and the pain would come back full force again.

Moving back to his pack, Brock took a knee and pulled out Cerb's dishes. With a short break, he would offer his dog water and a snack. He whistled for Cerberus, and although the dog padded over, Brock noticed his keen brown eyes kept turning back to the kid. He patted Cerb. "He'll be fine with Jason for a moment. Eat, drink. You need to keep up your energy too."

 _Yeah, but he is so sick. My boy hurts. Why is Trent letting him be in pain?_  Cerb stared at Brock, hoping for an answer. He didn't understand. Trent never let them be in pain, so what was different now. They kept using words he didn't know … like addiction. Cerb wondered what kind of wound an addiction was and why it prevented Trent from stopping Clay's pain.

Fighting exhaustion, Brock sat and pulled out his water, his eyes staying on Clay in Jason's lap. In a soft voice, talking to Cerb like he could fully understand him, Brock whispered, "Wish we could stop the damned pain … this is tearing Trent up inside. Things are gonna get worse before they get better, almost wish we could let Sonny pop him in the jaw and knock the kid out."

Cerb let out a low growl. He didn't like the idea of Sonny hitting his boy one damned bit.

"Easy, boy … Sonny won't be slugging Clay."

* * *

_**Outside TOC in Nepal** _

Lisa took a forced break, Blackburn insisted, so she wandered outside the building they had been assigned to use as their tactical operations center. Though nearing midnight, they were in a touristy section of the city, so the nightlife was still in swing. She found the locals to be friendly and welcoming for the most part and at some point, she would like to return to Nepal and take in the sights.

But for now, her place was inside this building, and her focus was on checking the satellite images as they came in to ensure her boys were given a heads up if there was any movement in their vicinity. The next set wouldn't arrive for another twenty minutes, hence Blackburn's decision telling her to give her eyes a break and take a moment to stretch her legs.

The team moved much slower tonight than they anticipated. Jason's reports indicated they needed to often halt as Clay became violently ill. The frequency and the duration of their stops increased as the night wore on. So they all now realized Bravo would require one more night of travel because there was no way they would make it into Nepal tonight, even if they ran full tilt for the remainder of the night which wasn't a possibility with how sick Clay was.

Her mind shifted to the reason Clay was in such horrible condition. The more Mandy discovered and shared with them about Prakash Sinjali, the human trafficker who was the reason Bravo was spun up, the more she hoped they would be able to locate the man and obliterate his operation. The depraved man who made money off selling people destroyed the lives of so many young women and several children.

Lisa wished with all her heart Padma and her brother had simply taken Clay to their family without encountering Sinjali's men. If that occurred, the quack doctor Metok would've never tortured Spenser, and the woman wouldn't have been dosing Clay with opium-laced tea for almost two weeks, and he would not now be experiencing, well, everything he was.

Her thoughts slipped to Danny. Addiction to opiates took his life … and she wondered if Clay would end up on the same path. Lisa's heart seized, and she bowed her head as she clenched a fist. Sonny took Danny's death so hard, as she did, but Sonny knew him longer and had been in the thick of things with him.

Davis slid down the wall until she crouched with her back against the bricks. She cared so much for the Texan … might even be love … too early to tell. If anything happened to the man Sonny claimed as his little brother, Lisa worried Sonny would spiral out of control. If that happened, not only her world but everyone in Bravo's would be affected. They all felt an affinity for the blond rookie … their kid brother who finally found the family he needed and deserved.

Relaxing her hand, a small smile came to her face. Sonny would never allow Spenser to go down the same path as Danny. He would sit on the kid, literally if necessary, to ensure he kicked the habit and never relapsed. Though it would be a hard road for both, and she only hoped Clay wouldn't try to do something stupid.

* * *

_**Somewhere in China** _

As the sun lightened the horizon of a new day, Jason took stock of his men … everyone thoroughly worn out by the rough night Clay went through. Every bit of water the kid consumed came right back up. It seemed he sweated his weight in water too. The kid would be dehydrated if not for the IV going full bore. They were all grateful for Trent's ample supply of fluids … one thing they didn't need to worry about.

But that left so many things on the table. The kid's constant vomiting … mostly dry heaving increased his pain. And although Trent gave Clay more ibuprofen, he threw up five minutes later … the kid couldn't keep anything down. The kid was beyond miserable all night, but luckily right before dawn, his body depleted and utterly exhausted, sleep pulled Clay into nothingness … a relief for every single one of them.

According to Trent, this was stage one of withdrawal where Clay would deal with flu-like symptoms for up to five days but should peak sometime today and then begin to taper off. Phase two would last up to two weeks and include depression, cravings, chills, and cramps … more fun. The third phase would require them all to be vigilant for months to come as the kid would face mood swings, anxiety, and continued craving for the drug.

After taking stock of the team, Jason rubbed the nape of his neck. "Brock and I will take first overwatch again. The rest of you rack out." He glanced at the interpreter who didn't hide his revulsion well as Clay vomited last night. Although a decent enough man, he heard him making gagging noise himself if asked to come anywhere near a hurling Clay … not that they would allow anyone except themselves to tend the kid. "Niranjan, need you to stay awake and rouse the others if Clay needs assistance."

Rubbing gritty eyes, his muscles sore as the day is long, Niranjan only nodded. More fatigued than he had ever been, not used to such physical exertion, Niranjan wished to sleep too, but at least he wasn't asked to hold Spenser as he upchucked.

Wearily, Brock and Cerb headed off to the east to a low ridge which would afford him better visibility of anyone who might approach the small camouflaged canopy they set up to conceal Clay and the others. Jason went west to cover the opposite side. Ray and Sonny chose a spot near Clay and laid down, both asleep before their heads hit their packs.

Trent finished another round of vitals before he turned to Niranjan. "Give him water if he asks. Small sips. Wake me if you are concerned about anything or if he starts heaving again. Any questions?"

Niranjan shook his head. Then moved to lean against the tree closest to the ill man.

Trent left his pack near Niranjan so he would have easy access to the water then he stretched out on the ground, and he too dropped off rather quickly needing the few hours of rest he would get.

* * *

_**TOC in Nepal** _

"Good Copy," Lisa replied after Jason's last status update before he would swap out with Ray so he could grab a couple of hours of sleep. She stretched and yawned … tired but nowhere near as bushed as the boys.

Eric strode in after grabbing a shower and lunch, he carrier two coffees, one for himself and one for Davis, and a bag. "Coffee and the momos you requested. Brought you a juju dhau too. Tried one and thought you would like the thick, creamy, sweetened yogurt made from buffalo milk."

Lisa opened the bag and the aroma of the momos, a dumpling made with rice paper wrappers stuffed with finely chopped vegetables and minced chicken, spurred her appetite. "Thanks."

"What is the status?" Eric straddled a chair resting his forearms on the back of it.

"Jason just reported he and Brock are racking out, Ray and Sonny have assumed watch, and Clay is still sleeping. Last satellite imagery of the area didn't show anyone … but with the tree canopy is it difficult to tell … and the delay between passes means someone could be there and I'm missing them."

Eric nodded. "True, but it is the best we can do. So, no more vomiting?" When Lisa grimaced, he realized she was eating. "Sorry, not lunch conversation. I'll let you eat in peace."

Lisa grinned. "No none. Jason indicated Spenser slept straight through the last four hours."

"He needs it … best thing for his body." Eric took a sip as his mind ran through all the extra wrangling he did this morning to arrange the best care he could for Spenser. "Dr. Irving is arriving this afternoon. Trent will be happy Clay won't be in the hands of local doctors. Once the guys arrive here, the doc will fly with Clay to the hospital ship in the Arabian Sea."

"What about the boys?"

"Mandy got the op greenlit. They'll stay here with us and go after Sinjali."

Lisa eyed Blackburn. "They won't want him out of their sights."

Eric frowned, understanding all too well how Jason and Trent … ah hell, all of them would react. "I know, but this is the Navy, and well, they have a job to do."

"At least they will be going after the guy who is partially responsible for Clay's condition." Lisa popped a momo in her mouth and savored the spicy flavor.

* * *

_**Somewhere in China** _

Clay roused in desperate need of pain meds. His eyes itched, and he moved his hand to the pads to rub and found them soaked. Sick of not being able to see, he tugged on the bandages, pulling them away. He blinked, squinted, and his vision was still somewhat blurry, but he could make out shapes and daylight.

It was quiet around him, and he spied a sleeping man against a tree he didn't know … the one he realized must be the interpreter they guys referred to as Niranjan. The call of mother nature beckoned, and Clay shifted … glad to discover he was not strapped down. Deciding he wanted to try and do it himself, Clay pushed up to his knees then sat back on his heels as his head swam.

He noted he still only wore his boxers … and wondered where the hell his clothes went. Turning his head, he squinted at the figures lying near him … Brock, Cerb, Trent, and Jason. Twisting back the other way, his gaze landed on Trent's med bag. Every muscle in his body ached, his back hurt like hell, and his thigh throbbed, but Clay forced himself to crawl to the bag.

 _If they won't help me, I'll do it myself._  Glancing around again to make sure everyone remained asleep, satisfied they were, Clay rummaged through the supplies, seeking one thing. He found it at the very bottom. Clay jabbed the prefilled morphine injector pen into his thigh. He sighed and let it drop to the ground after getting a much-needed fix.

The need to pee and crap reasserted itself. His mind somewhat disjointed, Clay took one rational action, grabbing a package of gauze to use as wipes, and an irrational one, as he pulled out his IV ... not caring about the little blood seeping out of where it had been inserted. On hands and knees, he started forward intending to move away from the rest to take care of business. When the nasal cannula stopped him, he yanked it off and continued.

As the drug took effect, blotting out a good portion of his pain, Clay grabbed onto a tree and hauled himself up. He staggered away seeking a bush for some privacy, tired of embarrassing himself over and over all night long.

The five in the camouflaged area, four men and one dog, continued to snooze while Ray and Sonny kept outward watch … all unaware the kid wandered off in a drug-induced stupor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My evil muse decided to leave this on a cliffy.


	11. Knight-errant

* * *

_**Somewhere in China – Clay's Location** _

After finding a bush and taking care of business, Clay stood and swayed as lightheadedness overtook him. Near the end of the little energy he awoke with, his vision not as clear as he would like with things appearing wonky, and his stomach turning again, he pressed on his gut to keep from puking again. Clay took unsteady steps in the direction he believed he came from, though in actuality, he went the wrong way, led astray by his fuzzy mind and sight.

Shivering yet sweating, maybe shivering because he was sweating, Clay wished for his clothes or at least the blanket to ward off the chill. Solely focused on wanting to lie down, his brain muddled and dulled by the morphine, time and distance warped as he continued taking shuffling steps. With every step, believing he was almost back, Clay pushed himself to keep going.

Trudging along, his slow pace became slower … the dirt, twigs, dead leaves and such muffled his footfalls but left an easy trail. His eyes continually teared making things blurry, which also explained why his bandages had been wet … another symptom of withdrawal. He swiped a hand under his runny nose to remove the annoying drippage, but then didn't have anything other than his boxers to dry his hand.

Leaning on a tree, believing he was close to the camp because he heard muffled sounds ahead of him, Clay was overcome by a wave of nausea. He dropped to his knees and began retching. Unable to hold himself up, he ended up on his side, curled up as he continued to dry heave. When he finally stopped, one lucid thought passed through Clay's mind …  _the guys are going to kill me_  … before his thoroughly spent body, helped along by the morphine, forced him into blessed nothingness.

* * *

_**TOC in Nepal** _

"Bravo Two, Havoc," Lisa said after swallowing the last bit of her sweetened yogurt, her eyes pinned on the satellite photo.

Alerted by Lisa's voice, Eric strode over, and she tapped on the monitor instead of explaining to him. "Shit."

"Bravo Two, go ahead," Ray responded as he continued to scan.

"Be advised, imagery which is an hour old shows a group of ten souls about eight clicks southwest of your position. Unable to identify if they are hostiles."

"Copy." Ray stood, time to go wake Jason and the others … too bad Jace and Brock would only be getting two hours sleep. "Bravo Three, maintain overwatch I'm on my way back to the others."

Eric took the mic and said, "Bravo Two, give them a wide berth, I realize it will cost additional time, but we cannot take the chance of engaging if they are Chinese soldiers on routine patrol."

* * *

_**Somewhere in China – Bravo's Camp** _

"Will take appropriate precautions to avoid them," Ray replied and picked his way back to the camouflage area as he calculated eight clicks to be about five miles, and within the past hour, if they were moving at a fast rate, company could be arriving soon. But they had no way of knowing. Ray disliked working without ISR overhead; it left them blind.

That thought brought one of Clay. He worried about the kid's eyesight. Sniper's like them relied on exceptional vision … so for him, the most worrisome of Clay's problems was his eyes, because, with the right help, the kid would kick the opiates … especially with all of them looking out for the kid.

Approaching the concealed area, Ray first noted Niranjan nodded off … Trent would be pissed off. His eyes moved to where Clay lay, and he blinked … not believing what he saw … or rather what he didn't. His head whipped around, searching for the kid.  _Where the hell is he?_  Ray didn't dare yell for Clay, not with potential hostiles presumably in range.

Ray rushed forward to Jason and took a knee when he didn't spy Spenser. "Jace, wake up, man. We got two problems."

Instantly alert, mostly due to the urgent tone of his second-in-command, Jason popped his eyes open and sat up. "What's up?"

Pointing to the vacant litter, Ray said, "Clay's missing, and Davis just reported ten people are in the area."

Jason gaped, and spoke his first thought, "They take him?" He was on his feet in a split second as Ray went to roust Trent.

"Not sure. Doubt he could walk away, but would someone just take him and leave. Doesn't make sense to me," Ray shook Trent as he answered.

His eyes landing on the interpreter, Jason strode over and kicked his leg. "Hey, asshole. What are you doing sleeping? You are supposed to be watching the kid."

Niranjan's hand flew to his thigh … it smarted from the forceful application of a boot. His other hand rubbed his eyes as he peered up at the angry man. "Just nodded off a moment … he's sleeping. He's fine."

"Sleeping? Fine? He's fucking missing!" Jason's arm shot out in the direction of where Clay should be.

Eyes rounded when Niranjan spotted the empty stretcher. "Where'd he go?"

"That's what I want to know." Jason glared at the man, allowing the anger he felt towards himself for trusting an outsider with the task of Clay overwatch, realizing he should've assigned one of the team instead.

Trent scrambled to his pack, noting all the supplies strewn around, first spying the discarded nasal cannula and IV, but then his eyes lit on something which scared the shit out of him. "No. Fuck no!" He held up the used injector. "Kid or someone else found the morphine. This one was full and is now empty."

Brock and Cerb woke when Jason spoke. Brock pushed up and stared at the unoccupied spot as Cerberus trotted over to where his boy should be laying down and sniffed around.

"Bravo Two to Three."

"Three here. You getting lonely?" Sonny teased, unaware of the situation unfolding in their camp.

"You catch any movements … see the kid?" Ray asked.

"No … why?" Sonny's gut twisted as his mind snapped to the only reason Ray would ask something like that and Ray's next words confirmed.

"Kid's missing … Niranjan dozed off."

"Fuck! I'm gonna castrate me an interpreter," Sonny hissed although he wanted to yell, he wouldn't based on Davis' latest report of others in the area. They could be locals, military, or more of Sinjali's men.

Cerb got his boy's scent, and he took one moment to peer over at Brock.  _Follow me … I'll find him._  Then he turned and lopped off to the southwest.

"Shit, that's the direction Davis indicated our company is approaching from," Ray shared.

As Brock followed Cerb, Jason ordered, "Ray stay here in case wandering boy comes back and inform Havoc of the situation. Sonny maintain overwatch. Trent with Brock and me." Jason and Trent followed Brock who followed the dog.

Ray keyed his comms to contact Havoc as he eyed Niranjan. If Clay was harmed in any way due to this man's negligence, he would be hard pressed to keep all four of his brothers from taking it out of Niranjan's hide. "Bravo Two to Havoc we have a situation."

* * *

_**TOC in Nepal** _

"Havoc, go ahead," Eric responded. As Ray communicated what transpired, he clenched a fist.  _Damn, anything that could go wrong … is … hope like hell they find Spenser without incident._  "Good Copy, keep me apprised as things develop." Eric blew out a breath as Ellis entered carrying a folder.

Lisa stood and stared at Blackburn. "Can this get any worse?"

"What's going on?" Mandy asked noting Blackburn's distressed expression.

Lisa pivoted to face Mandy. "Clay wandered away … or at least they think he did. And I found a group of ten about five miles from their location, but with the latency, they could be right on top of the guys as we speak."

Mandy's face fell as she let out a sigh.

"What?" Eric stated recognizing Mandy's expression to be one of bad news.

"Been working with a local contact. They raided one of Sinjali's known stash houses. They found and rescued two foreign women who were recently abducted from the bazaar. The police managed to take five of Sinjali's men into custody. After interrogating them, one broke and said Sinjali and nine others left several days ago intending on going to the encampment where Clay was held after Samdup failed to respond."

Lisa reached for the mic. "Then the ten … they might very well be Sinjali and his men. We need to let Jason know."

Eric nodded, but said, "Any details on the group? Are they armed like the others?"

"I would assume so, but no, I don't have specifics of that sort." Mandy bit her lower lip.

Lisa handed over the mic to Blackburn when he motioned for it then she sank into her chair.  _Darn it. I had to tempt fate by asking if this could get worse_.

* * *

_**Somewhere in China – Clay's Location** _

Clay roused partially as someone, he suspected Trent, shook his shoulder. "Sleep … leave me be," he mumbled. The unfamiliar language in response caused him to crack open his eyes. Blurry figures appeared through watery eyes. He blinked to clear them and focused on the man in front of him who spoke to someone standing over him.

_Who the fuck are they?_  Adrenaline surged through Clay's veins, clearing away enough of the morphine-induced mind fog, allowing him to keep his mouth shut as two men conversed. Scanning the area, although his vision still distorted, he made out several other men around him. His heart hammered at an increased rate as he recognized he was in deep shit.  _Where the hell am I? Where is Bravo?_

Prakash Sinjali stared down at the nearly naked man. He possessed the features of the high-value prize Samdub described the last time he spoke with his second-in-command. But since then, no communication came from Samdub or the other group who were in a Nomad encampment tending to the injured prize. Speaking Nepalese to Lokesh who knelt next to the blond, he said, "No way he escaped from my men … he is in no condition."

Lokesh replied, "If he is a soldier as Samdup indicated, he may be more capable than you expect. I say we bind his hands and feet. I'm not willing to risk my life by leaving him unbound."

"Agreed. Do it." Prakash crouched, examining the handsome face before him. "You will fetch a mighty high price."

Clay didn't understand a single word, but he didn't like the greedy mien morphing the man's face. A moaned escaped as two men roughly rolled him to his stomach without regard for his injuries, and yanked both arms behind him. They wound coarse twine around his wrists and ankles and pulled it taut. Nausea grew from the movements, and Clay fought hard not to heave.  _Ah, crap … I should've asked for help … Jason's gonna be pissed at my stupidity._

Prakash stood and said, "We make camp here for the night. Get things set up. Lokesh, you are on guard duty first." Taking one more glance at his new captive, Prakash wondered why Samdup failed to reply in the last two weeks, one of the reasons he came himself to check, but he assumed it to be a radio failure like the last few times.

* * *

_**Somewhere in China – Searching for Clay** _

Cerb stopped, and Brock halted behind him, spying signs Clay had been behind the bush. He turned to Jason and aware of potential hostiles in the area, spoke in an undertone, "Clay was here … seems he wanted privacy to take a dump."

Jason fought many emotions but remained professional, keeping a tight lid on the explosion he wanted to let loose.

"No signs of a struggle," Trent said as he crouched and peered at some footprints heading away from their camp. "I think the morphine screwed with his sense of direction. Or it could be his eyesight. He ripped off the bandages back there too."

Brock interjected, "I'm surprised he walked this far, to begin with. How the hell did he have the strength … he's been weak as a newborn puppy."

Noting the clear path, which was evidence enough to all of them the kid wasn't himself, Jason motioned them forward just as Blackburn came over the headset.

"Havoc to Bravo One."

"Go for One," Jason replied in a halftone.

"Be advised new intel indicates the ten may be Prakash Sanjali and nine of his men. We do not know for sure if they are armed like the other groups you encountered but assume them to be."

"Rules of engagement?" Jason halted.

"Alive if possible. Nepal authorities want to pump him for information and potentially rescue some of those Sinjali sold into sexual slavery over the years. They raided one stash house, but so far none of the men taken into custody are aware of other locations or details which will help in the retrieval."

"Copy. Located signs of Six, following his trail." Jason's mind caught up with all of what Eric said. "Sinjali is a human trafficker, not a terrorist?"

Eric nearly groaned. He hadn't meant to let that little piece slip out yet. Before he could respond, Quinn came across the comms.

"You mean that freak wanted Ken Doll not because he is military but because he's pretty?" Sonny blurted out with disbelief. He had run across many strange and sickening things in his years as a special operator, but this took the cake.

"Affirmative," Eric said, but added, "We need Sanjali alive, other lives depend on it … he's been known to sell children too."

The last stunned the men of Bravo, and Jason answered, "Copy. Keep HVT alive. Three, I need you here. You can't miss the trail out of our camp. Two, provide cover for our strap."

Brock suggested, "Perhaps Cerb and I should recon ahead and come back to report."

Jason shook his head. "Ten is too many. We need a plan in case we cross paths or if Clay in his delirium wandered into them."

"Do you think Sinjali would recognize Clay?" Trent asked as he stood.

"Unknown, but if the man is what Blackburn says … even if he didn't, he wouldn't turn down an opportunity for easy pickings. The kid isn't in any shape to defend himself." Jason raked a hand through his hair … this situation just took a turn for the worse.

* * *

_**Somewhere in China – Clay's Location** _

Clay faded in and out of nothingness. His position on his stomach with arms bound behind him uncomfortable, to say the least as it put a strain on his shoulders. Tremors shook him, and although chilled to the bone he sweated buckets. The salty sweat caused the cuts on his back to sting, and the beads of liquid also dripped into his eyes which wouldn't stop tearing up, so for the most part, he kept his eyelids shut.

With his hands restrained, Clay couldn't wipe away the snot which ran constantly. The throbbing in his head increased, but luckily his ability to breathe, despite the clogged nose, improved. His desire to hurl never left, but he fought the sensation as best he could because puking from this position would hurt and he might aspirate his puke.

Though his lids remained closed, Clay happened to be awake and heard a familiar bird call and another one from a different direction.  _My brothers are here._  He waited, knowing to keep down and still. His brothers would be aware of his position and ensure their shots didn't fly in his direction.

Brock signaled Jason he and Cerb attained a position across the clearing to deal with Sinjali if he squirted. Jason along with Sonny would deal with the bulk of the men while Trent's role would be to swoop in and grab the kid, moving him to safety. Trent's call indicated he was ready to act.

As Jason called out the Nepalese phrase Niranjan provided him, ordering the men to lay down their weapons, gunfire erupted from Sinjali's men. Within thirty seconds, nine men lay dead while Cerb sank his teeth into Sinjali's arm, bringing the HVT to the ground as the man tried to run.

Brock gave the order for Cerb to release and flipped the bellowing man to his stomach and zip-tied his hand behind him. The bite wound would be tended only after Trent checked on Clay.

Sonny and Jason maintained watch as Trent crouched next to the kid. Using his knife, he cut the rope holding Clay's wrists and ankles. The soft groan told him Clay was awake. His voice brusk, Trent ordered, "Open your eyes, Knight-errant."

Clay blinked, confused by the new name. "What?"

"Never mind." Trent didn't want the guys razzing him if they found out he and his girlfriend had been discussing medieval chivalric romance literature where the knight-errant would wander the land in search of adventures to prove his chivalric virtues. Trent would never live that one down … better they thought his only reading included medical textbooks. He began taking vitals.

"Havoc, Bravo One. HVT in custody, a little banged up but alive. Six found alive, Four is assessing his condition."

"Copy. The remaining nine?" Eric asked but assumed the answer.

"Dead. They opened fire on us."

"Understood." Eric glanced at the door when Dr. Irving entered. "Doc is here if Four needs to speak to him."

Jason peered at Trent who nodded. "Put him on."

Trent related Clay's vitals, overall condition, and informed him of the morphine he injected but couldn't give him an exact timeframe … only sometime within the past two hours.

The doctor listened, marking down the respiration, pulse and several other items. He had developed his course of treatment to detox Spenser and from what Trent reported he could provide the SEAL some relief. "Davis indicated you requested a sedative to be added to your kit."

"Copy. It is back at our camp." Trent was relieved to have Irving to speak to … it took a huge weight off his shoulders.

"Okay. Once you return, communicate Six's vitals again, and if he remains stable, I'll provide you a dosage which will put Six to sleep but not degrade his respiration. This will ease his withdrawal symptoms and allow you all to move with greater haste tonight."

Sonny grinned. "Hot damn."

As the group prepared to leave, Trent determined the fastest way to travel would be if he heaved Spenser over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. That way Brock could maintain hold on their HVT while Jason took point and Sonny covered their rear.

Clay's eyes met with Trent's as the medic knelt and prepared to lift him. "Sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" Trent noted the shame in Clay's expression.

"This … all of it … taking the morphine … not asking for help ... wandering off." Clay dropped his chin and lowered his eyes.

Trent used his fingers to lift Clay's chin. "Not angry with you. Not your fault. We're gonna get you through this. This will hurt, but you are in no condition to walk. You ready?"

Clay nodded and clenched his jaw to keep from crying out as Trent hoisted him over his shoulder and rose. The jarring of fast pace his brothers moved spiked his pain, and Clay sought refuge in nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Love to hear from my readers ... comments make me smile ... thanks to those who take a few moments to let me know what they like.


	12. Tit for Tat

_**TOC in Nepal** _

"WHY THE HELL NOT?!" Jason finally let loose the frustration he tamped down since finding Clay missing yesterday. He glared at Blackburn wanting a different answer.

"Because this is the Navy and you, Master Chief, as much as everyone seems to think you do, don't get everything you want or demand. There are protocols and rules," Eric stated maintaining his cool under the direct glare of one very pissed off Hayes. He learned long ago to give Jason his lead in most arena's, but at times the best-damned team leader needed to be reminded they all answered to a superior. And in this case, his hands were tied … they had orders.

Ray, Brock, and Trent all sat around the table, as unhappy about the turn of events as Jason, but they remained quiet. Sonny paced at the back of the room, his fists clenching and releasing, endeavoring not to hit the wall … or … well, he still wanted to pummel the idiot interpreter for nodding off and allowing Clay to wander away. It was a good thing the man wasn't in the room at the moment.

Jason changed tactics, "He needs us."

Eric maintained his position, not backing down or flinching. "Spenser will have the best available care. All you would be doing is standing around in the way on the ship. You have a job to do here."

"We brought in Sinjali. We rescued the three women. We're done," Jason bit back. He blew out an exasperated breath. "What more could we possibly do here? When the kid wakes, he's gonna need his brothers. This mission screwed with his head … like Mexico all over."

"As I explained, the Nepalese government requested our assistance in rescuing several of the people … children … Sinjali sold in the past six months. They have leads on their whereabouts."

"Bring in Charlie Team … Fuller will want the kudos," Jason fired back. Not that he didn't want to find and rescue kids, but their kid, their rookie, their little brother needed them.

Once they got him back to the camp yesterday, they all witnessed the vulnerability in Clay's eyes as he apologized to them for his actions. Jason pinned Blackburn with a heated glare again which also reflected his internal struggle and regret. "Spenser fucking apologized to us when we are the ones who owe him an apology for leaving him hanging … he was literally hanging from a tree. We were within three hundred yards of him the night of the HAHO jump.

"As a result of our … my failure to locate him, our brother suffered torture, disguised as medical care, for two weeks and was drugged out of his mind with a concocted herbal tea which contained not only opium but kratom."

Jason's fists balled up as he recalled the results of the extensive toxicology panel Dr. Irving ran. It showed in addition to opium the kid was also given kratom, a compound which had potentially deadly side effects such as seizures and depressed breathing … hence one of the reasons why the kid had such difficulty when they found him.

And as soon as they arrived here, the doctor whisked Clay away to a hospital ship … not that he was angry about Clay receiving the best possible care … he was, however, pissed off about being denied to accompany him and be there for him when he awoke.

Noting Blackburn had not been swayed, Jason tried one last ditch effort. "Eric, he will be among strangers and might believe we abandoned him, blame him, or are angry with him. The kid doesn't need any of that shit … he needs our unwavering support."

Eric understood, oh boy did he understand … but he had no option, just like when Sonny was trapped in the sub tube. "Jace, my hands are tied. Dr. Irving is with him. He won't be alone."

"Not the same and you know it!" Jason placed his palms on the table and leaned over … fatigued … not only physically but mentally. After sunset yesterday, they ran as fast as they could with a sedated Spenser. Once they crossed the border into Nepal, they were met with a helo, and the trip to Katmandu seemed to take forever, but they were all relieved Dr. Irving was on the flight with them and began treating Clay with the proper medicines.

Though wiped out, none of them could sleep while waiting for word from Dr. Irving, which came only twenty minutes ago after eight long hours of nail-biting frustration. None of them wanted to be here … they wanted to be with Clay … for Clay. The kid had been abandoned too often in his life. First his father, then his mother, then Stella, then his father screwed him again with that damned interview where he implied Clay supplied him classified intel for his damned book. Ash Spenser had no shame … and no loyalty.

Eric released a long-suffering exhale. "Yeah, I know, but the faster we finish what needs to be done here, the quicker you all will be able to return and be there for him. Irving indicated they would begin to transport Spenser home in two or three days, once he is certain Clay is stabilized. They will transfer him via helicopter from the USS Solace to Djibouti. A medical flight will take him to Germany then to Virginia. You may well be home before him."

"If not, who will be there to watch over the kid. He lives alone, and we damned well don't want him relapsing," Trent piped in.

"He will likely remain in the hospital," Eric supplied.

"But if we are here longer … and he is released, what then?" Sonny halted his pacing. "Not like Irving would be taking the kid home with him … like we would."

"I'll contact Naima. With her nursing skills, she will know what to watch out for," Ray offered.

"No offense, Ray, but she has her hands full with your kids. And they shouldn't be exposed to someone going through what the kid will be going through. I lost one friend to drug addiction … I'm not about to lose another." Sonny clenched his fist again.

Though as unhappy as the others about not being there for Clay, Lisa wanted to reassure Sonny that Clay would be okay and wouldn't go down the same path as Danny. "Dr. Irving is confident the detox method he will be using is effective and fast. The physical craving for the drug will be eliminated before he leaves the USS Solace.

"He also said, it is unlikely Spenser will relapse or seek out the drug, equating the period of use to someone who was in the hospital and receiving the drug. It isn't like he was out searching for a fix or addicted for months. And lastly, they have non-opiate medications to combat any pain his burned and cut back causes him."

Sonny eyed Lisa. He wanted to believe all she said, but a part of him worried … a huge part. Clay got under his skin like no other, and because of his little brother, he accepted he had real emotions and didn't need to remain closed off. Because of the blond wonder boy, Sonny opened up and as a result, took a risk with Lisa. Though he almost blew that to hell when he overreacted about her entering OCS. Luckily, she forgave him, and now they just had to figure out if and how they would proceed with a relationship and how OCS would play into things if she actually went.

Lisa gave Sonny a small smile. "I'll make some calls. Clay boy won't be alone if we aren't back before him." She scanned the concerned faces of each Bravo member. "I promise."

Mandy entered, recognizing her timing was getting better. Blackburn shared the news with Bravo, they reacted, digested the fact they had a follow-on mission, and although not happy, would turn their attention to the job at hand. They were, after all, well-trained and dedicated SEALs.

Jason turned his gaze to Mandy. "So how the hell did we get roped into this?"

Meeting him straight on, she had an answer which would mollify everyone … the truth … one they could accept. "It is a tit for tat. It's how I got your rescue mission for Clay greenlit so damned fast. Otherwise, the cake-eaters would still be considering the potential political ramifications. This way they get a feather in their caps for assisting with the retrieval of children, but more importantly … we got Clay back … alive."

The five guys simply stared. Blaming Mandy was easy… hell, they did it often enough, but in this case, she went to bat for them and likely saved every one of their careers because they would've followed through on their threat to go AWOL to find their brother.

Tension left Jason in a whoosh, and he slumped into a chair. "Tell us what you got and where we're going."

Mandy strode forward and set the folder on the table. "A couple of places. Russia for one. There used to be a brothel called The Cherry Club in Makhachkala on the shore of the Caspian Sea. It burned down years ago under suspicious conditions after a blood bath between rival gangs resulted in over one hundred dead … the press was never made aware of the actual total.

"The owner, Panin Savelievich Volkov, fled the country after his place burnt to the ground and went missing after he arrived in Oshar, one of the UAE. He was suspected of running a human trafficking ring which dealt in children. It appears a new player picked up the slack and clientele after Savelievich disappeared."

She flashed up a photo. "This is Stepankov Rollan Victorovich, and Sanjali says he supplied many children to him. This operation will require no footprint as Gaspar Kirillovich, the Russian Interpol Colonel leading the task force against human traffickers doesn't want to advertise he is working with America, but finds it necessary because many of the local police may be complicit and turning a blind eye. However, you will have a local contact he trusts, his brother Semyon Kirillovich."

Ellis continued to provide the team details, and when she noticed the weary and hooded eyes, she halted. "Go grab some sleep. We can brief more once we land at Incirlik Air Base in Turkey which will be the base of operations for this mission."

"Why Turkey?" Jason asked.

"It is central to the points you will be going. In addition to Makhachkala, as far as we know now, you'll be going into Syria, Libya, and Ukraine to locate missing kids." Mandy closed the file and handed it to Jason, knowing he wouldn't sleep until he at least did a preliminary read of the entire mission. She peered at the men and said, "It is up to you men to keep these kids from fading into nothing … and give them back a life worth living."

* * *

_**Four Weeks Later – Virginia – Hospital** _

Quietly, the men of Bravo entered Clay's room, not wanting to wake him if he still slept since it was only five in the morning. During the past twenty-eight days, they traveled to seven countries and liberated thirty children and over seventy women from a life worse than hell, taking down eight trafficking operations. And although they remained focused on their mission, in the back of their mind each one continued to worry about their kid.

Though Dr. Irving, via Blackburn, kept them apprised of Clay's condition, they all loathed the fact the kid remained in the hospital, and they couldn't visit or even speak with him. The burn unit followed strict standards of practice geared to protect their patients so they couldn't allow regular or video calls with Clay because the rules prohibited unsterile devices, such as laptops and cell phones from being brought into his room.

They received regular updates from Irving and in one he indicated after he flushed Clay's system and used non-opiates to control his pain, the kid had no trouble with the drugs. The doc had little concern it would pose an addictive issue for Spenser, which eased their minds. Also, the kid's blurry sight, caused by the residual salve used on his eyes and high-altitude retinal hemorrhages, cleared before Spenser arrived in Germany, and thankfully, left him with no lasting damage.

However, the thing they all least worried about became the biggest issue. Although the cauterization by Padma's brother served to stem his blood loss, the unguent she applied to the gash in his thigh introduced a virulent bacterium which required a high-dose antibiotic administered over two weeks via a Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter also known as PICC line.

Irving reported it was touch and go for several days as the kid's fever spiked and his body fought the infection. Given the nature of his wounds, they put the kid in strict isolation to limit his exposure to other bacteria or viruses. His quarantine period extended because the severity of the damage caused by the application of the hot knife to his thigh required a skin graft, so too did several of the second-degree burns on his back.

Sonny moved to the left side of the bed as he peered at Clay. "Sleeping Beauty looks good."

Trent picked up Clay's chart and perused the notations. He grinned and figured they had Dr. Irving to thank for saving the kid's life. The constant jarring of the litter complicated his field care of the burns. The blisters ruptured leaving each wound ragged and susceptible to infection. And each time the newly healed tissue split open, the wounds deepened and bled more. The trauma necessitated the grafts on Clay's back, as well as his leg.

"By the looks of things, the kid is on the mend and may be released soon," Trent shared with them as he set the chart down.

Clay stirred as familiar voices filtered in. He blinked open his eyes to find all his brothers standing around his bed. Even Cerb stood with his front paws on the foot of the bed. "A sight for sore eyes. You're back." Clay couldn't help the grin which grew on his face.

Captain Harrington stopped by his room as soon as the doctor lifted the isolation protocols and provided him a heads-up for why Bravo didn't visit him. Clay understood why his chosen family couldn't be with him for the past four weeks, and hoped for a successful outcome of their mission. "How'd things go?"

A bit surprised to find the kid grinning and welcoming, Jason ventured, "What do you know?"

"Harrington shared basics … off saving innocents after rescuing my ass from a human trafficker and a sadistic quack. Thanks, by the way." Clay shifted in his bed, now able to comfortably lie on his back for several days. Much of his first two weeks were a blur with fighting an infection and then being kept heavily sedated after the graft surgeries. They needed to turn him frequently to prevent pressure from building on the newly transplanted integument to avoid rejection ... and movement equaled pain.

Jason shifted, uneasy, not sure how their decision would go over with the kid. "When you're released, you're coming to stay at my house."

Clay scrunched up his face. "Uh, no. Mikey snores … and my home is fine."

"Kid's got a point." Sonny grinned, he might get his way, though Trent and Jason poo-pooed his suggestion earlier. "Coming to my place then. I don't snore."

Shaking his head, Clay said, "Nope. Well, yeah you do snore … like a friggin freight train, but no, not going to your place either. Not gonna be sleeping on your couch when I have a perfectly wonderful bed that I've been wanting to sleep on for weeks now."

"My apartment then … you can have the bed," Trent suggested, though he didn't relish the idea of trying to cram his body on his loveseat … a great piece of furniture when trying to make-out with his girlfriend, but too short for a comfortable night's sleep.

"No. Why are you all …" Clay trailed off as understanding dawned. "This is about the morphine isn't it?" Their averted gazes told him the truth. "I'm not some druggy … not gonna get outta here and go searching for a fix."

"We're not saying that," Ray interrupted.

"Sure as hell are! I'm capable of staying in my own place … unsupervised," Clay bit back.

"Humor us, Kid." Brock petted Cerb after the dog hopped up on the end of the bed.

"No!" He pinned his gaze on Trent. "I'm certain you read my chart. Did you notice I haven't had any narcotics for over a week? I never asked for them … they were given on a schedule Doc laid out." He shifted his gaze to Jason. "Never once begged for any, nor wandered the halls in search of them."

"Spenser—" Jason started but was cut off.

"Fuck! I wasn't in my right mind when I dug for the morphine. I fucking hurt … burns bad enough to require skin grafts. Remember after the helo crash, Jace, … you weren't quite with it due to your concussion. No one—"

Jason cut him off. "And as a result, the team was down for six months. I stayed in the hospital for several weeks … like you … then went home to live with Alana, so someone was around if things went south. That is all we want for you."

Sonny spoke up, lying a bit, but relying on doc's assessment the kid wouldn't relapse. "No one believes you are another Danny, … we just, hell, I want to ensure you are okay. This," he waved up and down Clay's body, "is our fault. We left you hanging in a tree three hundred yards away. Then Dr. Demento gets ahold of you and burns the shit out of your back while doing his best to turn you into a fucking pin cushion and drain you of blood too. And little Miss Nurse Do-Gooder drugged you with a potion to the point you almost stopped breathing."

Silenced by Sonny's words, Clay only gaped for a moment. His head started moving back and forth. "No way in hell any of this is your fault. My main chute didn't open. When the reserve did, I was way off course, and I crashed through the trees and got hung up."

Clay blinked. "Well, at least I think I did … I don't recall much after the reserve deployed. Only bits and pieces, disjointed memories which may or may not be based in reality. Recall searing pain in my leg, freezing toes, a thin blanket, and a female voice who offered relief from the unrelenting fiery pain.

"We all know and accept the risks of our missions. So what happened to me … you're not to blame." He pinned each one with a severe glare, holding their gaze for several seconds. "I'm alive because you came for me."

Clay blew out a breath and returned his gaze to Sonny. He grinned and acquiesced partially, "You can sleep on my couch. It is more comfortable than the floor of Glitter Girls."

Lisa sauntered in with a smile. "He has you there, Sonny."

"Now don't be taking, Pretty-boy's side," Sonny groused, but inside he rejoiced the kid accepted he wouldn't be going home alone. He would willingly sleep on a bed of nails to be able to keep a watchful eye on his little brother for the next few weeks.

"No sides to take. She speaks the truth." Brock chuckled.

"Okay, so now that is settled, do you know when the doc is springing you?" Ray asked.

"A couple of days. Friday at the latest."

"Perfect. First stop will be a barbeque at Jason's house." Ray grinned.

"Why mine?" Jason didn't mind, but Ray took him off guard.

"Cause you have the comfiest couch in case Clay needs a nap." Trent winked at the kid.

"Won't need one." Clay scowled.

"Un huh, will see about that. How often have you been out of this bed in the last four weeks?" Trent crossed his arms.

Clay sighed.  _Damn, Trent is probably right. Gonna take a lot to increase my stamina. Rehab is gonna be grueling._

The team discussed who would bring what for the barbeque before the conversation shifted to joking, sports, and general BS. A half-hour later, five sets of human eyes and one pair of canine orbs turned and focused on their kid … secure in the knowledge he was safe at home, on the mend, would return to the team, and also happy to find Clay faded off to nothingness wearing a slight smile.

.

_The end ..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, another story comes to a close. This seemed the right point to end this one. I do have ideas though for AI-N now. One unresolved thing would be how Clay will react the next time he needs to do a parachute jump. I'm sure after Brian died in a jump and he almost died there will be some 'nervousness' or anxiety to work through.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who takes a few moments to leave a review ... they are addictive and my drug of choice (well, that and chocolate). 😊


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